Sustaining the Wings, Part One
by Team Blue
Summary: Stalag 13 becomes the temporary stop over for a very important Gestapo prisoner, a US Army Major, who was kidnapped from England on orders from the Propaganda Ministry. But this isn't just any US Army Major....
1. Kidnapped

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, locales, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use. 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

_Author's Note: Although the disclaimer above talks about "any actual resemblance to historical persons, living or dead, being entirely coincidental" I have to say that my portrayal of a certain historical figure in this story is not just a random fictionalization. In short, I've darn near freaked myself out with some of the Major's actions in this story and the coincidences with some of the things I've read about him. LOL. Anyway, a lengthier author note will be posted at my web site (along with a reference page)  when I start to post the story there, but I wanted to start posting here at fanfiction.net to find out if I've really lost my mind or not. Please read and review! Tell me I'm nuts. Or tell me I'm not. LOL. Either way, feedback is greatly appreciated. =)_

**Hogan's Heroes:   
****Sustaining the Wings, Part One****  
****by: Lisa Philbrick**

**London****, ****England******

**November, 1944**

**Day 1**

The street outside the BBC Broadcasting House in London was bustling with activity as US servicemen, all members of the Allied Expeditionary Forces Band, were arriving for rehearsal before the evening broadcast. The band, under the direction of US Army Major Glenn Miller, was in the midst of a marathon session of recording, broadcasts and performances leading up to it's transfer from England to recently liberated Paris. The band had to be the hardest working and most dedicated musicians the service could have asked for. They endured long hours, inadequate resources, terrible travel conditions and German buzz bombs. And yet through it all, the quality of their music never diminished. Their music, of course, was not traditional Army music. It was the swing and jazz music that many of those serving in the armed forces had been enjoying back home just before the attack on Pearl Harbor plunged the United States into war.

One of the most popular swing bands, if not _the_ most popular swing band was that led by Glenn Miller. Miller had a very strong sense of patriotism and was very aware of the effect the draft was having, not only on the musicians called up for service but on the young people who filled the ballrooms and dance floors to hear and see the band. Although Miller himself was exempt from the draft, he answered his own call of duty and after being rejected by the US Navy, he made a very strong case to US Army Brigadier-General Charles D. Young about bringing the music closer to those who were serving to keep morale up. Young agreed and Miller reported for duty at the beginning of October, 1942.

Of course, not everyone agreed. Miller faced critics, naysayers and Army traditionalists, who felt that his idea of modernizing military music was sacrilege. But Miller brushed them off, as the only opinions that mattered to him was the reaction from the servicemen that made requests for broadcasts and dedications on the radio and crowded into air field hangers, camps and auditoriums to hear the band. After all, he was doing this for them, not for any personal gain of his own. In fact, much of what he was doing was coming at a great personal sacrifice. 

But he couldn't stop. He _wouldn't_ stop. Although his own morale sometimes faltered, he never lost sight of what he was doing it all for. This was his duty and Lord knew he was putting everything he had into it. 

None of these thoughts, however, occupied the Major's mind as the Army staff car pulled up to the curb outside the Broadcasting House. Major Miller grabbed his crush cap and stepped out of the car, putting the cap on. He was greeted by a few members of the band, while the driver of the staff car opened the trunk to retrieve the Major's trombone case and an attaché case with the band's sheet music and arrangements for this broadcast. 

Miller received the cases, thanked the driver and walked into the BBC with the other band members. Two nonchalant looking American Army officers stood a few feet away from the entrance to Broadcasting House, smoking cigarettes and talking. All the while, they had been waiting for this particular staff car to arrive. As soon as Miller disappeared into the building, they dropped their cigarettes and followed in after him to the studio where the band was setting up. Neither of the two officers spoke to anyone, nor did they try speak to the Major right away, holding back until such time they could approach him without too many people already around him. No one in the building, or anywhere in the entire US Army would have known who they were, as they weren't even Americans to begin with. 

The studio was full of the sound of instruments playing scales, as the musicians who were already there were warming up. The drum set was being assembled and microphones were being plugged in. The small group around the Major had disbursed and Miller placed his trombone case down near a chair that was near the main microphone. He placed the attaché case on the chair and opened it to retrieve the arrangements. He hadn't removed his crush cap yet. 

One of the nonchalant Army officers looked at his partner and nodded. The two approached the Major. 

"Major Miller?" the unknown Lieutenant Colonel spoke. Glenn Miller looked up from the open attaché case and saw he had a Lieutenant Colonel on one side of him and a Lieutenant on the other. Needless to say, he found this odd. 

"Yes?"

"Could we speak to you a moment? It's about the broadcast..." The Lieutenant Colonel tilted his head toward the door, indicating that he and the other officer wished to speak to Miller out of the presence of the rest of the band members. _Now what?_ Miller wondered. He nodded to the two officers. "Of course," he replied. He left the arrangements in the attaché case, closed it and turned to follow the Lt. Colonel. The Lieutenant paused only a moment to remove a folded paper from his uniform pocket and leave it on top of the attaché case before turning to follow directly behind the Major.

The Major followed the Lt. Colonel down the hall way and was starting to wonder what was going on. He stopped to turn to the Lieutenant behind him, who merely gave him a gentle push to keep walking. Miller did and they came out of the building. The street and sidewalk were back to a normal looking facade as most if not all of the band members were inside. The Lt. Colonel led the way to a car and opened the back door. He looked at Major Miller.

"Get in, Major."

Miller was suddenly alarmed. "What is this?"

"This is a kidnapping, Major Miller," the Lt. Colonel said. "You are to be a guest of the Third Reich for an undetermined amount of time."

Miller turned quick, thinking to make a run for it but the Lieutenant was directly behind him and pulled a small pistol from the coat of his uniform and placed a persuasive grip on Miller's forearm. "Please, Major," the Lieutenant spoke, his German accent unmistakable, "we do not wish to make a scene. Get into the car..."

Miller eyed the gun and then turned back to the Lt. Colonel. He cast a quick glance around the street, realizing nobody of the few people who were around knew what was going on. Effectively bushwhacked, he let out a defeated sigh and got into the car. The Lieutenant followed in after and the Lt. Colonel closed the door. He then walked around the car and got in on the other side. 

One of the members of the band, a young private, saw the whole thing. He had tried to find the Major and somebody told him they had seen him step outside with two other officers. When the private came out the door he saw as Major Miller was getting into the car and the obvious movement of one of the other officers concealing a weapon into the coat of his uniform. Something was wrong!

The private watched the car pull away and saw through the car window as one of the other officers put a blindfold over the Major's eyes. The private ran back inside the building, hollering that the Major had been kidnapped. Some were disbelieving until the private told of what he saw and then the note that had been left on top of the attaché case was found. By order of the German Propaganda Ministry, Major Glenn Miller had been kidnapped and if the band played in that night's broadcast or any future broadcasts...

...the Major would not be returned alive. 


	2. Wasted Time

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Some characters are named after actual persons holding rank in the United States Armed forces during the Second World War

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use. 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick****

**Gestapo Headquarters**

**Düsseldorf, Germany**

**November, 1944**

**Day 1**

Major Wolfgang Hochstetter circled around his US Army Air Corps counterpart who was seated on a wooden straight back chair in the middle of the Gestapo interrogation room. No matter what, Miller would not look at the Gestapo Major. The band leader sat up in the chair and looked straight ahead or at any other corner of the room, but not at Hochstetter. The Gestapo Major couldn't tell if the avoidance of eye contact was out of fear or defiance. Most American officers that Hochstetter had had the pleasure of interrogating were usually brazen and cocky, at least until Hochstetter had knocked them down a couple of pegs. But this officer was different. While others had shown open defiance, this officer was reserved. Quiet almost to the point of being sullen. 

Even the American Major's facial expression was held in reserve. Hochstetter couldn't understand why the man looked so battle worn, considering who he was and his position.  Surely playing music couldn't be that draining on a person, could it?

Hochstetter checked his watch. The Propaganda Ministry asked that Major Miller be held at Gestapo Headquarters until they had secured a place to move him to. So far, the American Major had been in Germany no less than five hours, three and half of that spent in this one on one with Hochstetter. Miller was tired, but was still not straying from his mandated responses of name, rank and serial number. Hochstetter was actually quite disappointed. He couldn't use any intensive interrogation on the captured Major, and even if he could have he knew he wouldn't have got anything out of him anyway. By order of the Propaganda Ministry, the Gestapo was not to even _touch_ Major Miller. So for three and a half hours, Hochstetter did the song and dance routine of making generalized conversation with the Major, which was mostly one sided, and then asking Miller what he knew of Allied plans for the war, which was total waste of time. Miller was the commander of a band, not a fighter squadron, and therefore, Hochstetter knew, would not have any strategic information about the Allies war plans. However, every time Hochstetter switched gears and asked about war plans, he got name, rank and serial number. Obviously Miller knew the routine. 

Hochstetter took a deep breath, and continued pacing around the band leader. "Let's try this again, shall we? What do you know about the Allies plans on the Western front?"

Major Miller sighed and gave his same answer, his low voice echoing a little within the room. "Miller, Alton G. Major, US Army. 0505273..."

Hochstetter stopped pacing and stood off to the side of the US Army Major looking at him for a moment. He decided to change his tactic a little. "I know you do not know anything of the Allies plans for the Western front. You're a musician."

Miller sat, resolute. _It's taken you three hours to figure that out?_ "Then why do you keep asking me?" he asked, still not looking at the Gestapo Major.

"Routine questions, given your rank. The Gestapo knows you would not have any knowledge of the Allied Command's battle plans."

Major Miller now turned his head and looked at Hochstetter, raising an eyebrow. _There's a punch line to all of this?_

Hochstetter didn't meet Miller's gaze and paced a few steps in front of the American Major. "Tell me Major, given that we know you know nothing of the Allied Command's battle plans, aren't you the least bit curious as to why we have you?"

Brown eyes peered through wire-rim glasses at Major Hochstetter. Miller kept a neutral face for a moment and then smirked slightly. "You're looking for trombone players for the Hitler Youth Swingtime Jazz Band?"

Hochstetter stopped and turned to face Miller, not amused. "No...but the Allied Expeditionary Forces Band is more than likely looking for a trombone player."

Hochstetter's tone was unnerving but Miller didn't let it show. "I'm sure they can find one."

"Yes but...can they find one as important as you?"

The American Major regarded Hochstetter with a guarded expression. 

"Isn't it true, Major Miller that you were quite active in working to bring your American music closer to your soldiers? So much so that you gave up a very comfortable civilian life to join the US Army? Even more so that you insisted on being transferred to England to bring the music and a "touch of home" closer to those serving on the front lines? Isn't that true Major Miller?"

"It's no big secret."

"Don't you think if somebody as important as you were to go away, that perhaps all those efforts would crumble?"

Miller shook his head. 

"No?"

"If you think kidnapping me will stop the broadcasts, you're wrong."

"Am I?" 

Major Miller nodded. "That band is so tight they can easily continue without me. I've made sure it's that way, in case something should happen to me."

Hochstetter paused. Obviously the Propaganda Ministry knew this too or they wouldn't have issued the ultimatum to the Allied Expeditionary Forces. "Then what if I told you, Major, that at this time, the Allied Expeditionary Forces Band has been told in no uncertain terms that if one note from any of their instruments is heard during tonight's broadcast you will be sent back to England...how do you Americans put it? In a pine box..."

Major Miller looked directly at Hochstetter. "What is it you want with me?"

"The Gestapo wants nothing with you. However, the Propaganda Ministry would like to permanently cease the Allied broadcasts from London, and seeing as you're an important part of that, they decided they would have you brought here to Germany as our guest...for however long it took."

Miller looked at Hochstetter for a moment longer and then turned his gaze away, keeping his thoughts to himself. He knew what the Germans were trying to do. Take away the music in an attempt to demoralize Allied troops. It had to be the most outrageous and desperate stunt the Germans could pull at this stage in the game. But for the moment it would work as Miller knew the band wouldn't play with such an ultimatum hanging over them. The band members would feel like they were part of a firing squad the moment they raised their instruments to play. He knew they wouldn't do it. But the thought of the music not reaching the soldiers who were putting their lives on the line everyday....bothered him more than the fact his own life was on the line right now. 

While Miller was contemplating this, the little window on the door to the interrogation room was slid open and a Gestapo guard signaled to Hochstetter. Hochstetter nodded and the window was closed. Miller looked up as Hochstetter appeared to be preparing to leave. "Not to worry, Major," the Gestapo man said. "You will be comfortable while you are here. The war shouldn't last too much longer and when it's over you can leave. Of course, with the Third Reich being victorious you may decide to stay here."

"I don't think so."

Hochstetter smirked. "We shall see... Now if you'll excuse me, Major, I will find out where you are going to be held next. Rest assured, the Propaganda Ministry does not plan on leaving you in one place for too long. We wouldn't want anyone to get any crazy ideas to try and rescue you."

Major Miller said nothing as Hochstetter turned and left the interrogation room.


	3. Welcome to Stalag 13

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Some characters are named after actual persons holding rank in the United States Armed forces during the Second World War

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use. 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 2**

Colonel Robert Hogan, US Army Air Corps stood outside of Barracks 2, tossing a baseball up on to the roof and catching it as it came back down in his old baseball mitt. It was another standard day at Stalag 13, the late morning sun was shining and prisoners were occupying themselves within the compound, some playing an organized game of volleyball, others reading or just doing activities to keep themselves active. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Hogan saw the sudden movement of camp guards. He stopped tossing his baseball and turned to look. Sergeant Shultz was coming from the direction of Klink's office and was shouting orders. The camp was being placed on lock down. 

"All prisoners back into the barracks!! Back, back, back!!" 

"What's going on Shultz?" Hogan asked as the Sergeant approached.   
  
"How do I know? I just have my orders. All prisoners are to be confined to the barracks, immediately, Colonel."

Guards were ordering the prisoners back to their barracks, receiving grumbling complaints in return. Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter who had been playing volleyball walked back to Barracks 2 along with other prisoners. LeBeau was being the most vocal with Newkirk and Carter adding their two cents worth.

"Into the barracks!" Shultz ordered. "Schnell, schnell, schnell!"

"Awright, awright we're moving..." Hogan said. "C'mon fellas, you heard the man, inside."

The men all filed into the barracks building. "We were winning, Colonel," LeBeau said.

"'E's right, Colonel. We were beatin' Barracks Four, and every time we're winnin' at volleyball they gotta put us in lockdown," Newkirk said.

"You can pick up the game again when the lock down is over," Shultz offered.

"Bloody lot o' good that's gonna do," Newkirk grumbled. "Lost our momentum by that point."

"Awright, fellas just simmer down," Hogan said. "Colonel Klink must have some big surprise for us, right Shultz? Doesn't want us to see it until he can wrap it up?" 

"I know nuthin'. I was only told by the Kommandant to have the prisoners placed in the barracks until the all clear signal is given."

Hogan walked over to the window. "So I guess that means we can't even watch out the window either right?"  Hogan peered out, long enough to see two staff cars come into the compound. 

"Nein! You can not look out the window either!" Shultz immediately came over, closed the wooden shutter and stood in front of the window, preventing anyone else from looking out. 

"Eh, shoulda figured on that." Hogan turned to Newkirk and LeBeau and then looked toward the door.  The Englishman and Frenchman both nodded. "And seeing as we can't look out the window, you don't want us peeking out the door either, right Shultz?"

"That's right."

"Okay then, I'll stand here then and make sure no one looks out the door." Hogan stood with his back to the door and when he was sure Shultz couldn't see him, he turned and along with Newkirk and LeBeau they looked outside. They recognized General Burkhalter, saw there were at least two Gestapo guards, along with Major Hochstetter and then finally an American army officer stepped out of the car. The group walked to Colonel Klink's office

"A new prisoner, Colonel?" Newkirk wondered.

"Confine everyone to barracks for a new prisoner?" LeBeau said.

"They've done it before when it's somebody they don't want us to see," Hogan said. He squinted trying to see the American officer, whose back was turned to the barracks as the group walked into Klink's office. "But why are they taking him to Klink's office first and not the cooler?"

"All new prisoners go to Klink's office first," LeBeau said.

"Not when it's somebody they don't want us to see..."

Once the door to Klink's office closed, a whistle blew. Hogan quickly shut the door and he, Newkirk and LeBeau turned their backs to the door. 

"There's the signal," Shultz announced. He looked at Newkirk and LeBeau. "You can go back to your game now."

"Momentum's shot, Shultzie," Newkirk said. "We'll have to pick it up some other time."

Shultz shrugged and left the barracks. LeBeau opened the door and watched Shultz walk across the compound towards Klink's office. He closed the door and nodded to Hogan. The Colonel turned and waved for everyone to follow him to his quarters. The coffee pot was set up and the heroes listened in. 

"....for he will not be here long, Colonel Klink," Hochstetter said. "The Propaganda Ministry wants us to keep him moving around, so as the Allies can not find him easily."

"The Propaganda Ministry wants to keep his whereabouts as well concealed as possible," Burkhalter said. "And you are not to place him in with the rest of the prisoners. Given that he is well known by just about every soldier of the Allied forces, no prisoner here is to see him or even know he is here."

"Where am I to keep him?"

"The visiting officer's quarters will do," Burkhalter said. "You will have a guard posted at all hours of the day and night. No one is to go near the quarters unless authorized by Major Hochstetter, myself, or by the Propaganda Ministry."

Klink nodded. "Understood, Herr General." He smiled. "You can rest assured gentlemen, while Major Miller is here at Stalag 13, no one will know he is here."

The heroes all looked at each other and Colonel Hogan. "Major Miller?" LeBeau said. 

Carter looked at Hogan. "Sir, you don't think that's..."

"Major Glenn Miller?" Hogan said. "He's the only Major Miller I know of that they might go to all this trouble for _and_ have the Propaganda Ministry involved."  

"The band leader?" Newkirk said. 

"The same. But I can't believe the Germans could have some how nabbed him." Hogan looked at Kinch. "Kinch, send a message to London. Ask them where Glenn Miller is."

"Right," Kinch turned and left the Colonel's quarters. 

Hogan unplugged the coffee pot. "What if it is Glenn Miller?" Carter asked. "What are we going to do?"

"Figure a way to get him out of here and back to London where he belongs."

"If it is him, Colonel, what do you think the Germans are going to do with him?" Newkirk asked.   
  


"If the Propaganda Ministry is involved it could be anything. They may try to use him in some of those Berlin Betty broadcasts or Axis Annie or something." Hogan paused. "Or they could be holding him for a ransom of some kind. Maybe swap him for some Kraut that our side captured. Whatever they have planned, if they do have the real Glenn Miller, they've got themselves one hell of a bargaining chip."

***

Across the compound, Colonel Klink and Sergeant Shultz were showing Major Miller to the guest quarters. Burkhalter and Hochstetter were present as well. 

"Here we are, Major Miller," Klink said. "I hope you find these quarters to your liking."

"He's not supposed to find the quarters to his liking, Klink," Burkhalter scolded. "He's not a visiting dignitary."

"He should not make himself too comfortable here anyway," Hochstetter added, casting a glance toward Miller, "as he won't be here for long." 

Miller kept his comments to himself, although he looked directly back at Hochstetter. It was clearly becoming evident by this point that Miller had no use for Hochstetter and Hochstetter had no use for Miller. Truthfully, Hochstetter didn't like the idea of the Gestapo being babysitters for the Propaganda Ministry's prize catch, but with direct orders coming from Himmler's office, Hochstetter had no choice but keep his mouth shut. So he gave Miller all the Gestapo charm he deserved. 

Miller, on the other hand, refused to show any fear toward Hochstetter, which only made Hochstetter all the more irritated. Plus the fact that Miller was considerably taller than Hochstetter the Gestapo Major didn't like either. Despite this, Hochstetter took a few steps toward Major Miller, to remind the American of the fact that he was a prisoner of the Third Reich. "The Major should also be reminded that he should not attempt to escape..." he said, "or he will not be treated as lightly as other prisoners of war."  
  


"Yes, there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13," Klink added. He then stopped and looked at Hochstetter. "What do you mean he won't be treated as lightly as other prisoners of war?"

"He means I'm not a prisoner of war," Miller said casually, looking at the Kommandant. He then turned his gaze back to Hochstetter. "Therefore if I escape, I'll more than likely be shot if found. That is what you mean, is it not Major?"

Hochstetter straightened his shoulders, but didn't give an answer. 

"Of course, if that should happen," Miller continued, "then the broadcasts from London will resume as normal. And the Propaganda Ministry will be rather upset that you got a little over zealous....don't you think?"

Hochstetter's moustache twitched in annoyance. Obviously Miller had figured out he was essentially untouchable. "Enjoy your stay here, Major. We'll see each other again."

"Looking forward to it."

Major Hochstetter turned and marched out of the quarters. 

Burkhalter turned to the Kommandant. "Keep him well guarded, Klink. The Propaganda Ministry has a lot vested in this man's capture."

"Yes, Herr General!" Klink saluted. Burkhalter turned to leave with Klink and Shultz following. Shultz looked back at the American Major and gave a slight bob of his head, a silent _bravo_ for getting Hochstetter pretty well flustered, before shutting the door. 

Major Miller found the portly sergeant's action odd but shrugged it off. He sat down on the sofa, removing his crush cap and tossing it into the seat next to him, and then removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. This was going to be a long confinement...


	4. London's Orders

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use. 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 2**

Over in Barracks Two, Kinch was coming up from the tunnel. ''What did you find out, Kinch?" Hogan asked. 

"It _is_ Glenn Miller they've got. He was kidnapped by German commandos yesterday. The Allied Expeditionary Forces Band has been told that if they play in any further broadcasts, Miller would be sent back to England in a… _sarg_…" Kinch handed the paper to Hogan. 

"Sarg?" Carter asked. 

Hogan's expression was grim. "Coffin." He sighed and looked at the paper. "London's suspended the AEF broadcasts until they can get Miller back." He looked at Kinch. "Did you tell London we might know where Miller is?"

Kinch nodded. "They said if we can verify that it really is Glenn Miller, they want us to get him out of here and back to London, by any means necessary."

"How are we going to do that?" LeBeau asked.   
  
Hogan already had the gears turning. "I'm not sure yet. But we're going to have to move fast. They're not going to keep him here long and we don't know how long we've got." Hogan went to the door of the barracks and looked out onto the compound. Burkhalter and Hochstetter were leaving. A guard stood outside the entrance to the guest quarters. 

The rest of the heroes peered out the doorway with the Colonel. "Only one guard," Kinch pointed out.

"Yeah," Hogan said. "We shouldn't have any problem getting one of us in there to find out if it's really him. But first I'm going to try and see if I can weasel any information from Klink..." Hogan walked out of the barracks and across the compound to Klink's office. As usual, he walked directly into Klink's office without knocking. 

Klink looked up from his desk, startled. "Oh Hogan, go away." After Burkhalter and Hochstetter and a highly important prisoner being brought in Klink wasn't in the mood for any shenanigans from Hogan. 

"What's the idea of putting the camp on lock down with Burkhalter and Hochstetter?" Hogan started. "We're not allowed to see them come into the camp anymore, but we can see them leave? And what's with the guard outside the guest quarters?"

Klink sighed. "The Gestapo has a very important prisoner and they're having him held here temporarily. That's all I can tell you."

"Important prisoner? What kind of important prisoner?" Hogan paused. "An Allied prisoner?"

"Hogan, I can't tell you anything. None of it is of any concern to you nor is it part of any business of Stalag 13. It is a Gestapo prisoner and he is only here temporarily."

"If it's a Gestapo prisoner, how come he's not in the cooler?"

"He does not need to be held in the cooler. He is not a dangerous prisoner."

"But he has to be an Allied prisoner," Hogan surmised. "Why else would you put the camp on lock down? It has to be somebody the Gestapo doesn't want us to see. Who is it, Kommandant? A General? A Colonel?"

"Hogan, you're dismissed." Klink saluted. 

"Are they really a prisoner....or a defector?"

Klink glared at Hogan. "It is not a defector. That is all I'm telling you. _Disssmissssed_, Hogan!" Klink looked down at his paperwork. 

"If he's being held as a prisoner then he should be held in accordance with the Geneva Convention and as the senior POW officer of this camp I should be allowed to see him--"

"He is not a POW, Hogan! He is a prisoner of the Gestapo. Now, you were dismissed!"

Hogan backed off. Klink wasn't giving so much as an inch which meant that despite the prize of the Krauts capturing Miller, nobody was allowed to gloat about it. Quietly, Hogan turned and left the office. He paused in the area of Hilda's desk and looked back at the Kommandant's office door. _Nobody's allowed to gloat about it..._ Hogan also realized that if Klink let something slip and if the entire camp knew that Miller was being held there, the Major would be moved out in no time flat. And that would be the end of any escape attempts. By the same token, Hogan knew he had to show his natural curiosity. Hopefully, Klink could keep his mouth shut. 

Hilda was seated at her desk and the blonde secretary was watching the Colonel. "You're curious about the Gestapo prisoner?" she asked. 

Hogan turned and looked at her. "Did you see who it was?"

"Only what uniform he wears. He is an American."

"Is he an officer?"

"I think so...his uniform looked like that of an officer. He had the same kind of hat as you."

Hogan nodded. "He's an officer." He looked at her for a moment. "What did he look like?"

Hilda shook her head. "I saw more than I was supposed to."

"They didn't want you to see him either?"

"No."

"Makes sense I suppose..." Hogan said as he came around the desk. "They figure one of us would ask you questions." Hogan smiled and leaned to Hilda and planted a kiss upon her cheek. "Of course, you've told me nothing..."

Meanwhile, Sergeant Shultz had been giving a task by Kommandant Klink, find out what the special prisoner needed for any additional personal items and get them. Klink had complained about the Gestapo not taking care of such business before sending Shultz on his way. Shultz had withheld his own answer to the complaint, that being that the Gestapo was taking care of it….by having the Luftwaffe take care of it. 

Shultz nodded to the guard as he approached the guest quarters. He paused at the door and then knocked before entering. He found Major Miller was standing in the middle of the room, looking down at the floor with one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette. The American looked up as Shultz entered. "Herr Major," the Sergeant said, "the Kommandant asked me to ask you if there is anything you need?"

Miller looked at Shultz, remembering this was the guard that seemed to enjoy his reserved audaciousness towards Major Hochstetter. Miller decided he could risk a crack.  "A ticket back to England?" he asked.

Shultz chuckled. "Jolly joker...Is there anything _else_ that you need?"

Miller sighed. "Well, a kit would be nice." He looked at the cigarette he held between his fingers. His second to last one. "And a pack of cigarettes."

"A...kit?" Shultz raised an eyebrow. 

Miller figured the German didn't understand the term. "Yeah. You know, a comb, toothbrush, shaving gear? Obviously I'm going to be here for a spell..."

Shultz looked at the Major. "You don't already have one with you?"

"The Gestapo didn't exactly give me time to pack, Sergeant..."

Shultz was mildly annoyed by this. _The Gestapo really _is_ having the Luftwaffe take care of this._ He nodded to the Major. "I will get you a kit and some cigarettes. Is there anything else?"

Miller shook his head. "No."

"Very well." Shultz nodded and offered a salute to Major Miller. Miller returned it, although he found it odd to be saluting a German….let alone that a German would salute him. Shultz then turned to leave, the door quietly closing behind the Sergeant.


	5. Hogan Meets Miller

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use. 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 2**

Kinch was waiting outside the door of the barracks with the other heroes when Hogan came back. "Shultz just went into the guest quarters," he said.

Hogan turned to look. "Guess we wait," he said. 

"Did Klink say anything?" Carter asked.

Hogan shook his head. "Not really. Only that Miller is a prisoner of the Gestapo and is not being treated as a POW. He did _not_ however, mention the involvement of the Propaganda Ministry. Hilda only admitted it was an American officer."

"Not much ol' Klink can do anyway," Newkirk said, "with Hochstetter running the show."

"And the Propaganda Ministry," Kinch added. "Klink's going to be under a lot of pressure to make sure that none of us see Glenn Miller in this camp."

"Exactly. I also have a feeling that if they knew that we know Miller's here, they'll move him out fast and we'll be sunk." Hogan said. "On the other hand they may just be waiting for the right time to show him to us. For propaganda purposes of course."

The door of the guest quarters opened at that point and Shultz came out. The sergeant of the guard headed to Klink's office. 

"But we're not waiting..." Hogan turned to his men and a quick plan of diversion was brought together. Newkirk ducked into the barracks to retrieve his playing cards and then came back out. He, LeBeau and Kinch went in one direction, while Hogan went the opposite. Carter headed towards another group of prisoners. The idea was for it to look like Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch were merely walking around the yard, all the while Newkirk was demonstrating some card tricks. Hogan merely looked like he too was just strolling around the yard. Carter looked like he was joining a game of football in progress. 

Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch paused near the guard by the guest quarters. 

"I'll show you again, I'll show you again..." Newkirk said. He held his hands up. "Nothin' up me sleeves, nothin' in me coat, nothin' under me hat. Under 'ere I have a pretty lady with diamonds..." He held up the top card with the Queen of Diamonds on it. "But she's a little shy, you know, isn't sure what to do with all these fellas hangin' around and when they knock on 'er door all they find..." Newkirk put the card back down and with motion quicker than the eye, when he turned the card back up he had the Ace of Spades. "...is nothin' but spades."

"I'd think those boys would get tired of knocking on her door all the time," LeBeau complained.

Newkirk chuckled. "'Ere, I'll show you 'nother one..." Newkirk shuffled the cards and then fanned them out. "Here, Kinch, pick a card, any card..."

The guard watched as the card trick progressed. He didn't notice as Colonel Hogan casually made his way the other side of the guest quarters.  The one guard in the tower that would have seen Hogan, didn't, as he was suddenly distracted by the sudden boisterous noise of the Allied prisoners in their football game. Hogan paused only to look up at the tower and make sure he wasn't being watched. Seeing his opportunity, Hogan quickly went to the backside of the guest quarters. 

He went to the window and worked it open. He then lifted himself up and in through the window. 

Major Miller heard the voices outside the front of the guest quarters and then heard the noise of the window being opened in the bedroom. He took a few cautious steps toward the door of the bedroom, which was closed. He stopped when the door opened. 

Hogan looked at the Major and saw the look of momentary alarm. He put a hand up in a gesture of _wait_. "It's okay. I'm Colonel Robert Hogan, I'm the senior POW officer in this camp."

Miller let out the breath he'd been holding. "I take it despite your rank, they won't let you in the front door?"

Hogan put his hand down and approached the Major. "No. They don't want anybody in this camp to see you. Despite that tho', we have to figure a way to get _you_ out of here."

"That's a tall order."

"Tell me about it." Hogan paused, looking at the band leader, noticing he looked rather worn. "Major Glenn Miller I presume?"

Miller made a face, wishing he could say no. After all, that was why he was in the predicament he was in was because of who he was. "Glenn who?" 

Hogan chuckled softly, understanding. "Are you okay, Major?"

Miller nodded. "I'm fine, thank you." 

"How'd the Gestapo grab you?"

"There were two of them," Miller said. "They were dressed as American Army officers. They paraded me right out of the BBC Broadcasting House and into a car."

"Did you try to run for it?"

Miller was caught in mid-drag on his cigarette. He blew a string of smoke out away from the Colonel. "I got as far as turning around. The second one pulled a gun on me."

"Where'd they take you?"

Miller shook his head. "I don't know. They blind folded me after I got into the car and didn't take it off until I got into Germany and into a Gestapo interrogation room."

"You were _interrogated_?" Hogan was suddenly concerned.

"For a couple of hours. Song and dance stuff, really, I didn't say much more than name, rank and serial number. Finally though, I learned it's not the Gestapo that wants anything with me anyway."

"I know, it's the Propaganda Ministry. I just wanted to make sure they didn't try to rough you up or anything."

Miller shook his head. "They didn't."

"Good."

Miller paused for another smoke. He then suddenly realized what the Colonel had said. "How'd _you_ know the Propaganda Ministry wanted me?"

Hogan grinned. "We have a bug in the Kommandant's office. We over heard General Burkhalter and Major Hochstetter talking when they brought you in." 

"You have a ...?" Miller blinked, not sure he heard the Colonel right. "Really?"

"The Kommandant likes to think he runs this camp. He doesn't."

Miller chuckled. "Perhaps the Germans have made a mistake in bringing me here."

"You bet they did. Tho' they made a mistake in nabbing you, period." Hogan's grin faded and he hesitated a moment. "I also know that London has suspended the AEF broadcasts...."

Miller sighed. "Figured they would be." Although he knew why, he wondered if the Colonel knew too. "Do you know why?" he asked. 

Hogan nodded grimly. "That's why we have to get you out of here and back to England."

Miller neither agreed nor disagreed. Instead he looked away slightly from Colonel Hogan and stood quietly for a moment, smoking his cigarette. He didn't know that Hogan really _could_ get him out of Germany, and figured the Colonel was making a well intended promise that he would have a hard time keeping. However, Miller detected from things Hogan just said, that the Colonel was very well informed of things that were going on both inside and outside of the POW camp. But the band leader wasn't sure about the optimistic insistence that Hogan could get him back to England. Quite frankly, he didn't believe it. Thus, he wasn't counting on getting back to England and instead considered making a request of Hogan. He looked at him.

"Colonel, based on what you've told me, I'm guessing you have contacts outside of this camp don't you?"

Hogan nodded. "I do."

"Would it be possible for you to get a message back to London?"

"I can."

Miller hesitated, considering his words. He would not admit to the Colonel that he didn't believe he could get him out of Germany. But he couldn't let the broadcasts remain suspended. "I don't mean this to sound melodramatic," he said, "but I knew the risk when I put on this uniform. I especially knew the risk when I came to England.  My only purpose in doing all this was to bring the music closer to those who were fighting. I've been told that what I've done as one man has been extraordinary, and I appreciate knowing that. But if one man's life is going to stand in the way of those broadcasts continuing, I'd rather it not. My fear is that if those broadcasts remain suspended because of my life, what does that do for morale? The Germans knew exactly what they were doing when they grabbed me, but I refuse to let them have the satisfaction." Miller paused and straightened his shoulders, knowing he was addressing a Colonel. "If possible, sir, I'd like for you to tell London to resume those broadcasts, that I _want_ them to resume the broadcasts, regardless of my well being."

Hogan hesitated, struck by the Major's willingness to accept sacrifice. "Can the band play on without you?" he asked. 

"Yes. They're more than capable of continuing without me."

"Can they do it knowing they would be sealing your fate?"

Miller paused. "If they know that I want them to continue, they'll get through it."

"Are you willing to make such a sacrifice?"

"Isn't that a question that's asked of every good soldier?" Miller chuckled softly. "I don't consider myself much of a soldier...but I am a patriot. There's more at stake here than just my life, Colonel. You understand what I mean?"

Hogan understood. He understood all too well. He too was a patriot, and a soldier. He knew what Major Miller was talking about. After all, wasn't that the reason he was doing what he was doing now? Remaining a prisoner while helping others to escape, because so much was at stake?

But Glenn Miller was the biggest morale booster next to pinups of Betty Grable, the humor of Bob Hope and a letter from home that the Allies had. However, Hogan knew what the band leader was saying. _Losing me might be unfortunate, but to lose the music would be devastating._

Hogan wasn't arguing that, but still he felt a duty to try to get Miller out of the Nazi's grasp and back to England. He had to at least try.

He looked at the Major and nodded. "I understand..." He paused, considering what he was about to say next. "Major, what I'm about to tell you is to be held in the strictest confidence. What you see here at Stalag 13 is not your ordinary POW camp. I, and a small group of men, work covert operations, sabotage, from here and we help Allied fliers and POW's escape and get back to England so they can fight another day. I don't reject what you're asking me, but given what my purpose here is, and what your purpose has been, you have to at least let me try and spring you."

Miller was astonished. _Covert operations?__ Out of a POW camp?? _ "Colonel..."

"I'll make a deal with you," Hogan said. "The Germans aren't going to keep you here at Stalag 13 or in this area for very long. If I can't spring you before they move you to somewhere where I can't reach you....I'll send your request to London and I'll insist they adhere to it."

Miller considered this for a moment and then nodded, grateful. "Fair enough. But Colonel, how--?"

Hogan shook his head. "Trust me. I can get you out of here...if you'll give me a chance."

Suddenly Hogan and Miller heard somebody whistling a song outside. That was the Colonel's cue. 

"I'm out of time. But trust me, I _can_ get you out of here."  Hogan took a step back and turned, disappearing back through the bedroom.


	6. Consideration for the Major's Request

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use. 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

****

****

****

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 2**

When the heroes all gathered back in Barracks Two, Hogan filled the men in on how Miller had been captured, that he was physically okay and then told them of the Major's request. 

"He does realize what the Germans could do to him if those broadcasts resume, doesn't he??" Carter asked, concerned.

"He knows perfectly well," Hogan said.

"Wow..."

"You sure he didn't take a hit on the head or somethin', Colonel?" Newkirk asked. "I mean, that's quite the sacrifice to make just for some broadcasts."

"But think of how many of our troops listen to those broadcasts," Kinch said. "A silent radio doesn't do much for morale."

"Exactly," Hogan said. "And demoralized troops make for a weak fighting force. The Germans knew that capturing Miller wasn't enough to stop the broadcasts, they also have to hold his life in the balance. London doesn't want to be responsible for the Major losing his life, but Miller doesn't want his life to stand in the way of the possibility of preventing the loss of _hundreds_ of lives."

The heroes paused in consideration of what the Colonel just said. There was a heavy, awe struck silence that surrounded the table for a moment. With the Major's request put into perspective, they now understood and respected the situation. And they realized that the Major understood there was a bigger picture that he was a part of.

"Well," Newkirk said soberly. "When you put it that way..."

"It is a true patriot, that puts the welfare of others and of his country, before his own," LeBeau said. 

"Miller's been doing that for two years..." Hogan said. The door to the barracks suddenly opened and Shultz came in.

"Colonel Hogan, I request your assistance."

"What do you need, Shultz?"

"Maj---uh, that is the secret prisoner needs a kit."

Hogan heard Shultz's slip. "Major who?" he asked.

"Ah ah, I know nuthin'. But he needs a kit." Shultz handed the pack he had started to Hogan. He had gathered the basic toiletries, comb, razor and soap. "I need a few more items, plus cigarettes."

"I'm not givin' up some of my cigarettes for just anybody," Newkirk said.

"You would for this fella!" Shultz said. 

"Who is it, Shultz? C'mon...real big shot?" Hogan asked.

Shultz chuckled. "Big shot...perhaps."

"He's a Major...right?" 

Shultz hesitated. So he let slip the rank, he had given no name. "Jawohl."

"A Major in which army? American? British? French?"

Shultz chuckled again. "Heh heh...I know nuthin'."

"C'mon Shultzie," Newkirk said. "We gotta know. Did he specify a preference between English or American cigarettes?"

"He did not."

"Well I guess we give him a little of each," Hogan said. "Thing is Shultz, it's going be hard to convince the men to give up something from their Red Cross packages if they don't know who they're giving it up for."

"I'll give you a hint..." Shultz then made a motion with his hands as if he was playing a trombone.

"A musician?" LeBeau asked.

"Ja."

"Oh that narrows it down a lot!" Newkirk muttered.

"Well, it's a trombone player," Carter said. "That only narrows it down to a couple hundred guys I suppose." He paused. "Wait a minute! The Germans captured Tommy Dorsey?!"

"Tommy Dorsey?" LeBeau said. "He's not in the Army!"

"No, he's not," Hogan said. "Which is why I can narrow it down even further." He looked at Shultz. "The only Major I know of that plays trombone, is Major Glenn Miller."

Shultz said nothing, neither confirming nor denying it. He looked at the kit in Hogan's hand. "I will need those items as soon as possible..." He turned to the door but was stopped by all of the heroes as they sprung up from the table, expressing their shock and disbelief. 

"Wait a minute, Shultz," Hogan said. "Is that who they got? Glenn Miller?"

"I know nuthin'..."

"A bloody likely story!" Newkirk said. 

"One of the most popular band leaders in the world and the rotten Krauts have him right here at Stalag 13!" LeBeau added. 

"Awright, awright.." Hogan said, calming his men down. He looked at Shultz. 

"Colonel, please," Shultz said, "you did not hear this from me. I only give the hint because they are keeping him isolated. He is not being classified as a POW. I think the kit would mean a lot if it included some other items..."

"Okay, Shultz," Hogan said. "We'll put together a special kit for the Major."

"Danke, Colonel. Ah, and no monkey business...?"

"No monkey business." Hogan smiled. "We know nuthin'." 

Shultz nodded and left the barracks. 

Hogan turned to his men. He handed the kit to Carter. "I want you fellas to get this kit together. Despite what Shultz _didn't_ tell us, remember we know nothing. I don't want our little discovery here to leave this barracks. They find out we really know Miller is here, they could move him and then we're out of luck."

"What are you going to do?" Kinch asked.

"I'm gonna go bug Klink some more."

"But, Colonel, you just said--" Carter started.

"I know what I just said, but if I don't show my natural curiosity about all of this, Klink might get suspicious." Hogan turned and left the barracks, leaving the heroes looking at each other. 

"Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive..." Kinch said.

Hogan got pretty much what he expected from Klink. More stonewalling. Klink wouldn't take any argument from Hogan about having to help with the kit and told him...no, ordered him, to assist Shultz in putting the kit together. Klink did allow one piece of information to Hogan, that being the special prisoner would probably prefer American cigarettes. When Hogan vocalized his conclusion that the prisoner was an American, he was immediately dismissed by Klink.

When Hogan returned to the barracks he found the wooden table was full of packs of cigarettes, matches, chocolate bars, coffee, candies, a deck of playing cards, a couple of pads of paper with pens, crackers, cookies, a couple cans of SPAM...

Hogan looked at all of the stuff. "What did you guys do? Knock over the canteen?"

"No, sir, we merely took up a collection," Newkirk said with a grin. "Everybody in the barracks contributed. Charitable bunch, wouldn't you say?"

"Very," Hogan said with a chuckle. "Only problem is we can't give all this stuff to Miller."

"I know sir, I was just contemplatin' that little fact meself..."

"I bet you were." Hogan looked at Newkirk with a knowing eye. "Let's dwindle this down to something less obvious and return the remaining items to the _rightful owners_..."

Newkirk cleared his throat. "Uh, right sir..."

The kit was completed with at least one item of everything, although there were a couple of extra chocolate bars, packages of crackers, cookies and cigarettes that were added. The kit was then delivered to Shultz and inspected and the Sergeant of the guard found everything to be satisfactory. He thanked the Colonel and all of the heroes for their help. 

Shultz then delivered the kit to Major Miller, telling him that Colonel Hogan and his men from barracks number two had put the kit together for him. Miller had to hold back a smile and he nodded. He took a moment to inspect the contents and was pleasantly surprised by what he found. He was especially surprised to find not just a few cigarettes or just one pack of cigarettes but _two _packs of cigarettes. _Thank God..._ he thought. The thought of facing the remainder of this capture with one cigarette left in his pocket was distressing to say the least. However, Miller knew that cigarettes were about equal to money to a serviceman and the fact that someone had given up a whole pack of cigarettes for him, was not lost on the Major. He appreciated this, and the other items, greatly. He held the two packs of cigarettes up for Shultz to see and smiled.

"Tell Colonel Hogan and his men that I'm _very_ appreciative," Miller said.

Shultz smiled. "Jawohl, Herr Major." He gave a smart click of his boots and saluted, before turning to leave the quarters.

Miller observed the noon roll call from the window of the guest quarters that looked out onto the compound. The drapes had been pulled to prevent anyone on the outside to look in and to keep Miller from looking out but it didn't stop him. The small space between where the two pieces of drapery came together in the middle of the window were parted just enough for Miller to peer through without having to disturb the drapes too much. He watched as the men from Barracks Two filed out into formation, hearing the heavyset sergeant of the guard bellowing "_Roll call! Roll call!! Rouse! Rrrrrrouse!"_

When the men were lined up, Shultz started to count. 

"C'mon Shultz," Newkirk said. "Haven't you got us all memorized by now?"

"Ha, jolly joker...." He pointed to Newkirk. "Zwei..." and continued down the line. "...drei, vier, funf...."

A moment later, Klink was coming out from his office. "Repoooooooooooooorrrrt!"

Shultz had just counted the last prisoner for the barracks and he came around from behind Colonel Hogan to stand before the prisoners and face the Kommandant, giving a salute. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant! All prisoners present and accounted for!"

"Good." Klink looked at the men of Barracks Two. "Prisoners, I want to thank you for assisting Sergeant Shultz here with the kit for our...special guest. Your generosity is noted and I thought you would like to know that the special prisoner has expressed his gratitude for the items that some of you had to give up for this kit."

"That just goes to show you, Kommandant," Hogan spoke up, "even though we don't know who he is...the Allies take care of their own." The gathered prisoners murmured their agreement.

"Well that's very noble of you, Colonel. However, this will be all you, and the Allies, will be able to do for this prisoner. In fact...you may come to find yourselves regretting having been so generous." 

"What kind of crack is that?" Hogan asked.

Klink ignored him. He turned to Shultz, saluting. "Shultz, dismiss the prisoners!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!"

Klink turned and headed back to his office. Shultz dismissed the prisoners and the assembled men departed. Hogan stood pat, watching Klink walk back to the office. The heroes gathered around the Colonel. 

"If there's one thing I can't stand it's the sight of a gloating German," Hogan muttered.

Across the compound, Miller was still watching from the window. He had heard the Kommandant when he spoke, but couldn't make out what had been said. He now saw Hogan standing with four other prisoners. He wondered if this was the group the Colonel had spoke of earlier, the ones that worked the covert operations. If it was, whatever it was the Kommandant had said to them was apparently not well received, judging by the looks on their faces and the looks they directed toward the building where Klink's office was located. After a moment, the group headed for their barracks and Miller stepped away from the window.

A little while later, with the heroes providing a sufficient diversion for him, Colonel Hogan went to pay a visit to the Major, to see if everything in the kit was satisfactory and if there was anything else he would like or needed. 

Miller had no idea the Colonel was coming. The Major had managed to distract himself from his current predicament with a game of solitaire. He hardly registered the _bump_ sound of the window being opened but soon had the sense there was another presence....right at the same time the bedroom door opened. 

Miller looked up in a shot, startled. Hogan gave a sheepish grin. "Did it again, didn't I?"

Miller sighed but gave a chuckle. "Do you prefer to get the drop on people, Colonel?"

"I'll admit it gives me an advantage," Hogan replied, approaching the Major. "But I don't mean to startle you when I come in like that."

"It's okay. However, I think I'll sleep out here because if you come through that window during the night, that's not going to be pretty..."

Hogan laughed. He then sat down in a chair across from the Major and eyed the kit on the table. "So did you find everything you ever wished for in our little kit?"

Miller smiled. "I found enough to tie me over. And I do appreciate it, Colonel, very much."

Hogan nodded. "We would have given you more but we're all out of the champagne and caviar," he said in a pseudo-serious tone.

Miller looked at the Colonel, believing for a split second that Hogan would have champagne and caviar normally in stock but then he smirked and the Colonel chuckled.

"Why do I get the feeling you could _get_ champagne and caviar if you really wanted to?" 

"Oh we can get anything you want," Hogan replied. "Might take a day or two but we can get it. Why, you want some?"

"No," Miller said with a chuckle. "No, that's fine. Don't care for caviar anyway. And I'm quickly discovering I don't care for sauerkraut either."

Hogan smiled. "That's why we put extra cookies and crackers in your kit. Give you something different for a side dish."

"Side dish? The sauerkraut's the main course."

Hogan's expression dropped. "Don't tell me that's _all _they're giving you?"

"For the most part. I had something last night I couldn't identify, but for two days I've had sauerkraut."

Hogan rolled his eyes. "I didn't think they'd try to damn near starve you."

"They're just making sure I behave. The Gestapo Major and I don't exactly get along very well."

Hogan smirked. "Hochstetter. Yeah, he's a piece of work, but he's dangerous." Hogan's expression was warning. "Watch out for him."

Miller nodded. "I think the only reason he doesn't like me is because I'm taller than he is."

Hogan chuckled softly. 

"I noticed the roll call a few minutes ago. I didn't hear what the camp Kommandant had to say but I could see the looks on the faces of you and your men. I take it he said something you didn't like?"

"Yeah...." Hogan told the Major what happened and what Klink had said.

Miller paused. "Sounds like they expect me to commit treason."

"Of course they do. I figure the Propaganda Ministry is going to be looking to showcase you very soon."

"Well, try as they might, they're going to find me to be the most uncooperative SOB they've ever met."

Hogan softly snorted. "I would say that you better get used to eating sauerkraut then, but you're not staying."

"How do you plan to get me out of here?"

"I'm not completely sure yet. I've got a few ideas, but the tricky part is they have you so secluded. None of us are even supposed to know you're in camp. If they had thrown you with the rest of us, I could have had you out of here by now. But I'm working on it." He smiled. "You won't be here long enough to get used to eating sauerkraut."


	7. The Propaganda Ministry's Plans

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

****

****

****

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 2**

When Hogan returned to the barracks, he had Kinch go down into the tunnel to monitor the calls coming into Klink's office. The Colonel wanted to be on top of anything the Germans had planned for Miller, while at the same time trying to plan for Miller's escape. As he had told the Major, Hogan did have a few ideas but what he didn't admit was that they were risky. Of course, every escape had its inherent risks, and Hogan had got important people out of Germany and to England before...but with Miller the game was different. Firstly was that Miller was easily recognizable and once they got him on the escape route he would have to be well disguised. _Really _well disguised. Secondly, and this was true with just about every escape, one slip up, one mistake, and there was the possibility that the Major could be killed. Or he could be moved from Stalag 13 in a shot, taken somewhere and hidden where no one could find him thus squelching any further attempts for escape, and then Hogan would have to forward Miller's request back to London...and the same end result would be met.

However, the broadcasts would continue as the Major wanted. But for Hogan, to lose the Major would be equal to failure and failure was never an option. Deep down, Hogan knew there was the possibility and he was feeling the pressure because Miller's status raised the stakes considerably. This wasn't just another Army Major...this was Glenn Miller! Hogan knew that every decision he made put the lives of his men into his hands sometimes and it was an awareness that he never took lightly. And as he paced in his quarters, considering possibilities and contemplating plans, he knew that the Major's life was now in his hands. And that wasn't something to take lightly either.

While Hogan paced, Kinch was listening in on a phone call between General Burkhalter and Klink.

"The Propaganda Ministry is eager to use Major Miller in several propaganda methods and they will be there tomorrow to speak to him about it," Burkhalter was saying on the telephone. "I will not be able to attend this meeting, but I want you to be there, Klink."

"Of course, Herr General. You can count on me."

"Hmmm..." Burkhalter refrained from comment on that. "Major Hochstetter will be at this meeting as well, seeing as Miller is being held under Gestapo authority."

Klink nodded. "Of course. Who will be here from the Propaganda Ministry?"

"Anna Gebhart and Hauptmann Horst Reigels. Fraulien Gebhart is very anxious to feature Major Miller in some of her broadcasts. She is also working on some other broadcast material that she would like to feature him in."

"I see," Klink said.

"All of that will be sorted out tomorrow when they meet with Major Miller. In the meantime, you are not to say anything to the Major about this meeting...."

Kinch listened to the end of the conversation and then put his headphones down. He climbed up the ladder to the barracks, where the others were sitting at the wooden table.

"Where's the Colonel?" he asked.

"In his quarters..." Newkirk stood up from the table and went over to Hogan's door. He knocked and Hogan opened the door.

"Kinch has something," the Englishman said. Hogan came out and the heroes gathered at the table.

"I just over heard Klink on the phone with Burkhalter," Kinch said. "The Propaganda Ministry is coming here tomorrow to have a meeting with Major Miller."

"Who from the Ministry?" Hogan asked.

"Fraulein Anna Gebhart and Hauptmann Horst Reigels." 

"Terrific," Hogan muttered. "Axis Annie."

"Blimey...she'll want to get Miller to say how great and wonderful the Third Reich is and all that rubbish," Newkirk said.

"He'd never do it," LeBeau said.

"No," Hogan said, "but I'm sure they'll be very persuasive." He paused. "Kinch, we don't have the guest quarters wired do we?"

"No, sir."

"Could we?"

"We could but we'd have to run a new wire out and then set up a microphone somewhere inside. Considering how hard it's been just to distract the guard long enough for _you_ to get in there..."

"Could the Major do any of it?"

"Sure. It's a straightforward set up. If we can smuggle a microphone in, all he would have to do is connect the wires." Kinch paused. "We can run the wire through the tunnel to Klink's quarters and then just route it under the floorboards of the guest quarters."

"Good," Hogan said. "Get started on it. LeBeau, help him out."

"Oui, Colonel."

"I'd like this done before tomorrow morning. I want to know what the Propaganda Ministry is going to be up to so we can stay ahead of it."

"What if they try to move him out of here tomorrow to some undisclosed location?" Newkirk asked.

"If they do that, they're going to be in for a surprise."

"We bust him out?" Carter said.

Hogan nodded. "We bust him out. I want you and Newkirk to have the commando stuff ready to go and make sure there's a car we can take from the motor pool."

"Right, sir," Newkirk replied and stood up with Carter. All of the heroes set out to tend to their tasks.

-------  


Footnote: 

_I never figured out if the stove the fellas come up through once in awhile is in Klink's quarters or the guest quarters. Near as I can tell from the various episodes I've seen (I have not seen all of them) it looks like it was done interchangeably. Of course, I could be totally wrong and maybe there were no guest quarters at Stalag 13 at all. LOL. But for the purpose of this adventure, there is a guest quarters, which is located next door to Klink's and there is no direct tunnel access. What, you think I'm gonna make it that easy? =)_

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	8. Running the Wire

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

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**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 2**

Major Miller considered himself fortunate that the quarters he was in had an aristocratic looking upright piano, because other than the deck of playing cards, he certainly didn't have much else to occupy his time with. Not that the instrument sounded all that wonderful but he made do, playing stripped down versions of various songs that both his civilian and military bands had played.

It was a simplified version of _Moonlight Serenade_ that Kinch and LeBeau heard once they made it to the end of the tunnel directly underneath Klink's quarters. It was a tight fit, but the crawl space between the floor and the dirt was just big enough to allow Kinch and LeBeau to crawl out of the tunnel and make their way over to where they wanted to run the wire up through.

"You hear that?" LeBeau asked.

Kinch listened and then nodded. "Moonlight Serenade."

LeBeau nodded and smiled, knowing the tune. He listened as Kinch prepared his small hand held drill to drill through the floor. They both heard as the Major hit a note he didn't like, as he hit it more than once, obviously dissatisfied with it.

"Sounds like it needs a tune up," Kinch said. He put the drill to the floor board and began to turn it to drill the hole. The _Moonlight Serenade_ continued, despite the rotten piano key. It took only a moment for Kinch to puncture the floor board and pull the drill back out. He then threaded the wire up through and tacked it to the underside of the floor board, holding it in place but keeping it lose enough to have it let go when the wire was pulled for more slack.

"Okay," Kinch said. "Now all the Colonel had to do is get the microphone in there."

LeBeau nodded. They then crawled back to the tunnel entrance.

Later, in Hogan's quarters, Kinch gave the cigarette-sized microphone to the Colonel.

"The wire should be near the desk. I judged it as best I could."

Hogan nodded. "Did you leave enough slack on the wire?"

"Plenty. He can run it up into ceiling if he wants."

Hogan chuckled. "I'll tell him that."

"The hard part is going to be finding a good place to hide it all. I'm sure he can hide in the desk somewhere. We'll have to test it too, to make sure it's all working."

"I'll work out a signal with him to test it and one to let him know we can hear everything."

Kinch nodded. "I had LeBeau make a new plug for the coffee pot here for the microphone."

"Good." Kinch handed Hogan the microphone. The Colonel tucked it into his bomber jacket. "Okay..." He turned and walked out of his quarters and nodded to Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau. The three heroes got up and followed the Colonel out of the barracks.

Armed with his playing guards, Newkirk wandered across the compound shuffling them in his hand. Carter and LeBeau gathered a few other prisoners for a diversion making sure to keep the tower guard's attention on them while the Colonel snuck to the backside of the guest quarters.

Hogan carefully opened the window to the bedroom of the guest quarters and hoisted himself up and in. He disappeared through the closed drapes and then turned around to close the window.

Major Miller heard the English pilot as he was talking to the camp guard. He carefully peeked through the closed drape in the living area and then heard the noise of the window being opened in the bedroom. He left the window and went to the other side of the quarters.

Hogan nearly had a coronary when the door opened. In a heartbeat he thought maybe he'd been caught, but when he saw it was the Major he let out the breath he had been holding.

Miller smiled. "Gotcha."

The Colonel chuckled. "Heard me coming this time?"

Miller nodded. "Also saw the Englishman outside, distracting the guard." He watched as Hogan removed the microphone from his bomber jacket. "What's going on?"

"Remember what I said earlier about the Propaganda Ministry looking to showcase you soon?"

"Yeah?"

"They're coming tomorrow."

Miller rolled his eyes. "Wonderful."

Hogan held the mike up. "And I want to hear every word they have to say." Hogan walked into the living area of the quarters and approached the desk, looking around it. "Some where here there's a wire sticking up through the floor..." Hogan spotted it and kneeled down, taking a hold of it and pulling it up through the floor a little more. "Here we go..."

Major Miller couldn't believe it. _How the heck did that get there?!_ Curious, he approached as Hogan looked up at him.

"We have a receiver in the barracks. I'm going to leave this with you. It's easy to hook up, you just have to find a good place to hide it."

Miller nodded but looked at Hogan with surprise. "Colonel...how in the world...?"

Hogan smiled. "I told you my purpose here is to help POW's and the like escape? We have a tunnel system underneath this camp that helps us do that."

Miller blinked and looked at Hogan, his brown eyes wide. "Tunnels??"

"Yep. We've got one tunnel that runs right to Klink's quarters next door. We just ran the wire through there and drilled a hole through the floor here."

Miller was speechless.

"You know how I figured out the Propaganda Ministry is coming…"

"You have the Kommandant's office wired."

"Right. His phone too."

"You have a tap on his _phone?!_" Miller was so astounded by this he started laughing.

Hogan was grinning. "There are only five of us, but we do everything we can to mess up the German war effort." Hogan paused, feeling a sense of pride but knowing time was of the essence. "I wish I could show you everything we do, Major, because I know you'd get a kick out of it." Hogan sobered a little. "But we don't have the time to spare."

Miller nodded. "I understand Colonel." Hogan handed him the microphone.

"Once you have this set up and hidden, open the front window there about an inch. If the guard gives you a hard time about it, just tell him you need some air. One of my men will be watching that window. Even if the guard makes you close it, we'll see that you at least opened it."

"Okay."

"Now, after you do that, give us a moment or two so we can turn the receiver on. Then either just speak or..." Hogan glanced at the piano. "Better yet, play something on the piano."

"Okay. How will I know you can hear me?"

"If all goes well you should hear the Stalag 13 Barber Shop Quartet singing _White Cliffs of Dover_ out in the yard." Hogan grinned.

Miller chuckled. "Okay."

Hogan nodded. Suddenly he heard Newkirk whistling a tune outside. That was the signal that the Englishman had run out of time with the guard.

"There's your signal," Miller said. "I'll take care of this, Colonel." He held up the mike.

Hogan nodded and stood up, patting Miller on the shoulder in a 'good luck' fashion before ducking into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Major Miller looked at the cigarette-sized microphone and chuckled. He glanced behind him, checking the front door and then went to work connecting the microphone to the wire.

Once Hogan, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau got back to the barracks, everyone took their positions and waited, knowing it would probably take the Major several minutes to connect the mike and then find a place to hide it. LeBeau sat just outside the barracks door with a book, holes cut through it so he could look directly across the compound at the front window of the guest quarters. Once he saw the window open, he would signal to Kinch, who stood near the door of the barracks and would knock, which would signal Carter to signal Hogan.

Major Miller had the wiring hooked up in less than two minutes. He then looked around the desk to find an appropriate place to sufficiently hide the microphone. He pulled the chair out and looked up underneath the writing table and found that that would be a sufficient place to hide the mike....but he had nothing to attach the mike to and nothing to hold it in place. His brow furrowed in thought, he placed the mike down on the floor and began to rummage through the desk, looking for anything that might be of any help.

He found paper, an envelope opener and several fountain pens and then finally in the last drawer he opened he found a box containing sticks of sealing wax. This would work. He had his cigarette lighter and would have no problem softening the wax and the wax would surely hold the microphone in place, along with the wire, which he could tack to the underside of the desk and then down along the backside of the desk.

"Good...now..." Miller removed his Zippo cigarette lighter from his pocket and placed it on the desk. He picked up the microphone and checked to make sure that with it extended it to the very edge of the front of the desk that he would have sufficient slack on the wire. He did and leaving the microphone on the floor again, he opened the box of sealing wax and took one of the sticks out. Using the letter opener, he cut a piece of the wax off.

Miller then flipped open his lighter and struck it, passing it underneath the piece of wax that was on the letter opener, careful not to hold it directly to the wax and have it melt completely. He only wanted to soften it enough to use as tack.

Meanwhile, outside in the yard, the heroes were waiting for the signal.

"Nothing yet?" Kinch asked LeBeau.

"No." LeBeau dropped the book a moment, looking like he was turning a page. He raised it back up and continued to watch the window. "I hope he's not having any trouble with it."

"I think most of the time is being spent looking for a place to hide it," Kinch said.

Back in the guest quarters, Major Miller had successfully softened the wax enough and had tacked one end of the microphone underneath the desk. The one dab of wax, once cooled, wasn't enough to hold the microphone, which he knew it wouldn't be. But he now had to hold the microphone up with one hand and use the other to try to prepare the next dab.

"Terrific..." After a moment of thought, he picked up the letter opener and cut another piece of wax from the stick that was laying on the desk, with one hand. With the wax stuck to the tip of the letter opener, he laid the letter opener on the desk top, placing it so the tip was over the edge. He then held up the Zippo lighter and sparked the flame, carefully waving it back and forth near the dab of wax, being careful again not to totally melt the wax.

Seeing it was softened, he closed the lighter and took hold of the letter opener, applying the wax to the other end of the microphone underneath the desk. He held the mike while the wax hardened and prayed it would all hold when he let go of the mike.

He hesitated on letting go. He didn't trust it. If he let go and _it_ let go, he wasn't all to thrilled about having to start the whole thing all over again. So he held on to the mike still with one hand and prepared another dab of wax.

By this point it had been almost ten minutes since Hogan had smuggled the microphone in. Although the heroes were anxious, they knew the task of hiding a listening device couldn't necessarily be done in five minutes. Wiring the Kommandant's office had taken Kinch almost an hour, as he had to patch in the telephone line as well. So they waited, as patiently as they could.

The microphone was now stuck to the underside of the desk with three tacks of wax. Major Miller held his breath as he slowly took his fingers away from the microphone. It held and he slowly breathed out.

Tacking up the wire that connected to the microphone was a cinch. He pulled the remaining slack back toward the back of the desk and prepared bits of tack to hold it up underneath the underside of the desk. He then tacked the remaining wire to the backside of the desk and whatever remaining slack he had he forced back through the hole in the floor and tacked that in place as well.

Miller looked over his work and satisfied with it he stood up. He returned the chair with the desk and checked to make sure when the chair was pulled out, it didn't interfere with any of the device. It didn't and with the chair pushed in, the Major stood back and looked at the desk, making sure it didn't betray what it hid.

The microphone was unnoticeable and the wire that had come up through the floor was in back of the desk, unnoticeable as well. He checked it from just about every angle, pacing back and forth in front of it and could see nothing that would suggest there was a listening device hidden beneath the desk. Major Miller was impressed with his work and grinned. _Not bad for a trombone player from __Iowa__..._

He retrieved his Zippo lighter and returned the sealing wax and letter opener to the desk drawers he had found them in. He found a cigarette from the pocket of his uniform, lit it, and walked over to the front window. He carefully peered out through the tiny slit of the drape and saw the guard that was pacing back and forth in front of the guest quarters. The Major took a moment to savor a drag on the cigarette and then holding it between his lips, he unlocked the window to open it.

_Crack!!_

The guard outside heard the noise and saw the window being opened a little. Across the compound, LeBeau sat up straight.

"There it is, he's got it!"

Kinch signaled to Carter, who signaled to Hogan. The Colonel turned on the receiver and all the heroes gathered in his quarters to listen.

The guard, meanwhile, had quickly run into the guest quarters. "Nein!" he shouted.

Miller jumped back from the window and held his hands up, cigarette still between his lips. "I was just opening it for some air." He paused to take hold of the cigarette. "Verboten?" he asked.

"Ja. _Close it._"

Miller nodded and obliged. He closed the window and stepped away as the guard checked it to make sure it was locked.

"Sorry," Miller said as the guard glared at him before leaving the quarters. The front door closed with a loud _bang!_ and Miller looked over at the desk. "Well, Colonel I hope you can hear me..." He approached the upright piano and sat down at it. He then began to play _White Cliffs of __Dover__._

Over in the barracks, Hogan and the others smiled at the success. "Loud and clear, Major," Hogan said. "Loud and clear." He nodded to LeBeau, who unplugged the receiver and the heroes left the Colonel's quarters. When they emerged from the barracks, Newkirk signaled to several other prisoners to join them. They lined up like a choir, and Hogan took the position to lead them. He raised his arms and then signaled for them to begin.

_"There'll be blue birds over...._

_the White Cliffs of Dover_

_....tomorrow..._

_just__ you wait 'n see...._

_There'll be love and laughter...._

_and__ peace ever after_

_....tomorrow...___

_ when the world is free..."_

Major Miller heard the singing and stopped playing the piano. It worked! They could hear him! He stood up from the piano and went over to the window and cautiously peered through the slit in the drape and saw Colonel Hogan leading several of the prisoners in the singing. Miller smiled, for the success and for the fact that the boys sounded pretty good.


	9. Defiance

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

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**Stalag 13**

**November 1944******

**Day 3**

The next day, not long after the noon roll call, a staff call rolled through the front gate of Stalag 13 and came to a stop near Kommandant Klink's office. Hogan and his men watched from the window of their barracks. Major Hochstetter emerged from the car, along with a uniformed member of the Ministry and then Axis Annie. The heroes watched as Klink came out to greet the visitors and then led them to the guest quarters.

"C'mon.." Hogan said, turning away from the window. The heroes followed him to his quarters. The coffee pot was set up quickly and they listened as Klink, Hochstetter and the Ministry representatives entered the guest quarters.

Major Miller had seen through the slit in the drape as the car pulled up. He stood now, in the middle of the living area, smoking a cigarette and trying to appear casual. He looked over as his visitors entered the quarters, looking surprised, and cautious, to see them.

"Major Miller," Klink said. "This is Hauptmann Horst Reigels and Fraulien Anna Gebhart of the Propaganda Ministry. They would like to speak with you for a moment."

Hauptmann Horst Reigels was dressed in a grey uniform his matching grey crush cap tucked under his arm. He looked young, possibly close to Miller's age, maybe even younger and had short dark hair and chiseled features. Anna Gebhart was an attractive woman in her early 30's with raven hair pulled up and back in a severe style and she wore a black skirt and top with a light grey trench coat over it. Although the clothes were civilian, the look mimicked military decorum and made clear that the woman was all business.

Although he contemplated a smart remark of _but I don't want to speak with them_, he withheld it and simply gestured to the couch for the Propaganda officials to have seat. Kommandant Klink sat in one of the two remaining chairs, and Major Miller sat down across from the Ministry officials. This left Major Hochstetter to stand, much to the amusement of Miller.

Anna looked at the Major and smiled. "Major Miller," she began, "it is quite an honor to meet you. We have heard and read much about you."

"All good I hope."

"Of course," Anna said. "A patriotic individual such as yourself, walking away from fame and fortune to join his country's army in it's time of need. It was a very honorable thing that you did."

Miller refrained acknowledging the praise.

"More recently, you've been quite an integral part of the Allied propaganda effort with your involvement in broadcasts directed toward the German people and soldiers..."

Miller held back a smile. "Just doing my part for the war effort."

"And of course you understand that despite our best efforts to jam the signals for those broadcasts, we are not always...successful."

"Is that a fact?"

Anna paused. "Major, obviously you know that the reason we have you is to stop those broadcasts indefinitely, which..." a slow smile crossed Anna's face, "we have succeeded at."

Miller smoked his cigarette and said nothing.

Anna continued, "Of course, now with you as our guest, the Propaganda Ministry has a most unique opportunity. Major, you speak some German, do you not?"

"No."

"Oh, come now. We've heard you on your broadcasts. You've improved greatly in the short time the broadcasts have been airing. Of course, we know you're not nearly as fluent as the young girl that is on the broadcasts with you...what is her name?" Anna paused. "Ilse. And the young man who sings the songs in German....Sergeant... Desmond? Yes, Major we know all about the broadcasts and we've heard you speak German. And we've heard your music."1

"Hmmm..." Miller mused. "Music which, if I recall correctly, is banned here in Germany, as it's considered _degenerate_. In fact...I've heard stories where the Gestapo..." Miller glanced at Hochstetter, "...has arrested youths for listening to American jazz and swing music."

Hochstetter drew in a breath to say something but was interrupted by Reigels. "That is true," the Ministry captain said, "and that is where the Propaganda Ministry has this unique opportunity, Major Miller."

"We know that German youths listen to your music, Major," Anna said. "We know that records are smuggled into this country and sold on the black market. We even know there are "swing" bands here in Germany that play traditional German music on one side and then your American jazz on the other. Several of the youths we now hold in detention played in these bands...." Anna stood up and stepped around the coffee table, pausing momentarily between the right end of the couch and where Hochstetter stood. "It is the feeling that perhaps in it's efforts to build a strong nation and people, the Reich has misunderstood and in some cases alienated it's youth. And if the Reich is to last for a thousand years, it is the youth of today who will lead us tomorrow. Therefore, the Reich needs to find a way to connect with the young people in order to prepare them for the great responsibility that lies ahead of them."

Major Miller could already see where this was heading and he didn't like it. He said nothing, however, and just continued to thoughtfully smoke his cigarette.

Anna continued her slow pace around the room, pausing now behind the chair Miller sat in. "Tell us, Major Miller...what is it about your music that's so appealing to young people?"

Major Miller turned his head to look over his shoulder, but not to look at Anna. "I think you all ready know the answer to that." When she stepped in the direction of Kommandant Klink, Miller looked up at her and his eyes followed her as he continued. "Isn't it the same reason such music is banned in this country? Because it's American? Because you can dance to it? Because it's freedom...it's fun, it's...innocent? Because it's represents everything that's the opposite of what National Socialism is supposed to be about?"

There was a peculiar silence that hung in the room. Anna paused behind where Colonel Klink sat.

Over in the barracks, Carter let out a low whistle. "I think he struck a nerve."

"Big time," Hogan said. "He knows exactly what they're looking to do."

Back in the guest quarters, Major Miller watched as Anna stopped next to the couch and turned to look at him. He met her gaze, unwavering. "There's a point you're trying to make with all this," he said. "Why don't you just come right out with it?"

Anna took a deep breath. "Major Miller, the Propaganda Ministry is interested in using you in order to connect with the youth of Germany. Your music. Although the Reich frowns on such...'noise'...the Propaganda Ministry realizes that there are compromises that perhaps must be made. Now that you are our guest we would like to feature you and your music on broadcasts aimed at the youth of Germany."

Miller couldn't have been more offended. "Noise?" He leaned forward in his chair. "Don't you mean degenerate noise? Doesn't Goebbels call it the 'art of the subhuman?' You insult jazz and swing music but yet you want it, and me, in broadcasts aimed toward German youth, to show them that the Third Reich is so great and wonderful? I _don't_ think so."

"Perhaps the Major can be...persuaded to reconsider," Hochstetter said, leaning forward.

"Or what?" Miller said, looking at Hochstetter. "You'll make my stay here a living hell? Go ahead and try. I will _not_ be a puppet in a Nazi propaganda ploy." Miller's dark eyes were piercing as he turned them toward the two Ministry officials.

Hauptman Reigels looked back at Major Miller, unaffected. "Perhaps the Major would like to think over the proposition, and the consequences, for a spell....say, a few days in the cooler?"

"Yes," Hochstetter agreed. "I never liked the idea of him being allowed to be in held in these kind of affluent accommodations to begin with..." He gestured with his hand to the room itself.

Miller turned to Hochstetter. "I'm not classified as a POW."

Klink spoke up. "That is true, Herr Major, he's not a POW therefore he cannot be held in my cooler--"

"Shut up, Klink! He is a prisoner of the Gestapo and he will be moved to your cooler immediately!"

"Yes, Herr Major!" Klink got up from his chair.

"Colonel Klink, you must confine all the prisoners to the barracks!" Anna said. "He is not to be seen!"

"Yes, Fraulein, yes..." Klink nodded and went to the door to fetch the guard and to holler the order to Shultz to confine all prisoners to the barracks. Reigels stood up, looking at Miller. Major Miller took his time standing up and, keeping an eye on Hochstetter, he dropped the remains of his cigarette to the floor, stepped his foot over it and turned his foot slowly to crush the ashes against the rug. Hochstetter saw this and his jaw clenched in further annoyance. Miller then turned as Klink and the guard returned and he stood before them as they waited for the signal that all the prisoners were confined to barracks.

Over in Barracks 2, Hogan yanked the plug from the coffee pot and the heroes came out into the general quarters as Shultz shooed other prisoners in from the yard. "Rrrrouse!"

"What's going on, Shultz?" Hogan asked casually.

Shultz lowered his voice to the Colonel. "They are moving the special prisoner to the cooler."

Hogan looked surprised. "The cooler? What did he do, tell Axis Annie to go to hell?"

"I do not know. I only know they are moving him to the cooler." Shultz paused. "How did you know Axis Annie was here?"

"Shultz, we all saw her come in. We weren't put on lock down for _that_."

"Oh." Shultz went over to the window and closed the wooden shutters over it. A whistle blew, indicating the yard was clear and all prisoners were confined to barracks. Surreptitiously, Hogan inched his way over to the door and quietly opened it, the other heroes surrounding him to block Shultz from seeing the Colonel sneaking a peek.

In the guest quarters, the guard turned to lead Miller out. The Major followed with Klink directly behind him. Hochstetter, Reigels and Anna follwed out after. Hogan watched as Miller was marched across the yard toward the cooler. When the Major arrived at the fence area, Hogan softly closed the door and turned silently to his men. Although he admired Miller's defiance to Ministry, seeing the band leader marched to the cooler troubled the Colonel even though it had come as no surprise.

In the cooler, Miller was escorted to a cell and the guard unlocked it, snapping the door open. Miller stepped inside and kept his back facing the door. Before the guard closed the door, Hochstetter held his hand up, stopping the door from being closed. "Just a moment," he said. He stood directly in the door way and looked at Major Miller. "Your uniform jacket, Herr Major..."

Miller paused. _Terrific, they want me to catch pneumonia._ He hesitated a moment longer and then slowly undid the buttons of his brown uniform jacket and slipped it off. He turned and handed it to Major Hochstetter.

"And your glasses..."

Miller paused, maintaining a scornful glare at Hochstetter. Without his glasses he'd be nearly blind as a bat. Obviously Hochstetter was going to carry through on making things a living hell. A slow and calculated carry through. Miller took a deep breath and removed his wire rim glasses, handing them to Hochstetter.

Satisfied, the Gestapo Major stood back to let the door be closed and locked. Reigels looked through the bars at the American Major. "We hope, Herr Major, that you will reconsider your decision..." he said as the guard turned the key to lock the cell door. The troop of Germans then disappeared from Miller's blurred view, and the sound of a heavy metal door clanging shut echoed within the cold concrete confines of the cooler, replaced with silence.

"Not likely..." Miller said softly to the quiet.

The all clear signal had been given once Miller was inside the cooler. Hogan and his men were gathered just outside Barracks Two, watching as Klink, Hochstetter and the Ministry officials left the cooler. All of them saw the jacket Hochstetter was carrying.

"Colonel," Carter spoke up, concerned.

"I see it..."

"It gets awfully cold in there, Colonel," Newkirk said.

"I know." Hogan let go a sigh. "We have to get him out of there. LeBeau..."

"_Oui_, Colonel?"

"They'll probably ration his food, but I want you to volunteer to work the kitchen detail. Find which ration is his and we'll slip a note into it."

"What is the note going to say?" Kinch asked.

Hogan paused. "We're going to tell him to accept the German's proposition. He'll hate it. He'll absolutely hate it, but it's the only way we can get him out of that cooler and eventually out of this camp...and back to England." 2

"What if he refuses?" Newkirk asked.

"Then I pull rank." Hogan sighed. "Which I'll hate."

"Order him to commit _treason_?!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"It's either that or have him locked up in that cooler for the rest of the war. You forget the broadcasts are suspended? There's only two ways to get that music back on the radio, the first of which is to get him back to England _alive_. The second way, I'm not even acknowledging as an option."

"Don't worry, Louie," Newkirk said. "Once the guv'nor comes up with a plan, Miller won't be here long enough to commit treason."

"Exactly," Hogan concurred. _Now if I can come up with a plan..._

xxx

Later, when LeBeau came back to the barracks after the evening mess, all he could do was shake his head to the Colonel. "All they're letting him have is bread and water. I couldn't hide it..." LeBeau pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Hogan.

The Colonel sighed, looking at the slip of paper. "It's all right LeBeau, we'll try again tomorrow." Hogan put the note in the pocket of his bomber jacket. "Bread and water..." he muttered.

-----------  
_Footnotes:_

_1. Between October and November of 1944, Major Glenn Miller and the American Band of the Allied Expeditionary Forces took part in several broadcasts on the ABSIE (American Broadcasting Station in Europe) directed toward German soldiers and citizens. The ABSIE was part of the Overseas Branch of the Office of War Information (American propaganda) and broadcasted to the continent news, talk and entertainment in different languages in order to prepare the occupied territories for liberation. My reference page at my site, once posted, will include a link that talks about Miller and the AEF Band's involvement with the ABSIE (FF doesn't allow links within stories)._

_2. Some episodes showed a tunnel access to the cooler. For the purpose of this adventure, there is no tunnel access. _


	10. Out of the Cooler

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 4**

The next day, LeBeau headed over to the kitchen to volunteer to help prepare the lunch time meals. In his pocket was the short note from Colonel Hogan to Major Miller and with the help of the other prisoners that worked the kitchen, LeBeau was able to determine which tray would be for the Major. This time it would not be just bread and water. LeBeau nodded to two prisoners who took positions on either side of him, hiding the Frenchman as he removed the paper from his pocket and placed it on the plate before scooping the day's lunch onto the plate. He then put the metal cover over the plate and the other two prisoners stepped away, looking natural in their movements.

A few moments later, a guard came to get the tray for the prisoner in the cooler. LeBeau handed the tray to the guard, who lifted the lid to check it first and then recovered it, walking out of the kitchen.

In the cooler, Major Miller was pacing, trying to keep warm. He heard the clanging of the cell block door opening. There was then the rustling of keys and the opening of his cell door. He stopped pacing long enough to see the blur of the guard leaving the tray, and then the cell door was locked shut again.

Although the Major wasn't very hungry he knew that if he ate, it would help keep him warm.  He sat down on the bunk and took the lid off the tray. He did not sense any heat therefore he knew whatever it was it was a cold dish. He picked up the fork and sampled the food, immediately recognizing and disliking the taste. Sauerkraut. Again. He wondered if there must have been an excess of cabbage in the Third Reich and they were feeding it all to him for the past three days. He also had a slice of bread, somewhat stale, and a coffee cup with water that completed the main course.

Miller ate, trying to ignore his dislike of the taste. His thoughts wandered, as they had for most of the time spent in the cooler. Hochstetter...._pompous little son of a..._ More than likely the Gestapo Major had control over what would be served...and not served. Would they tease with a hot dish at dinner then feed him nothing the next day? Miller knew why the Gestapo Major had taken the uniform jacket and glasses. He saw the ploy. Hochstetter would try to break him yet...

Miller's thoughts were interrupted when his fork pulled something from underneath the sauerkraut. He pulled it out completely and then took a hold of it with his fingers. _Paper?_

He placed his fork down and put the tray aside. He unfolded the little paper and saw the blurred lines of handwriting. He stood up from the bunk, going to the other side of the cell where some of the light from the window above shone in.

Without his glasses, he had to hold the note a few inches from his nose to read it...

_                        Major--_

_                                    I know you won't like this, but I want you to agree to the Propaganda Minis. proposition. _

_                        I have an idea but I need you out of the cooler to do it. If you wish, consider this an order._

_                                                                                    --Hogan_

Miller sighed. The thought of agreeing to the German's demands did not appeal to him at all. Frankly, he would rather remain locked up in the cooler and damn near freeze to death, than to let the Germans use him and the music that he so cherished for their own manipulation purposes. But he had agreed to give Colonel Hogan the chance to get him out of Germany and as such Miller had no intention of being a pain in the backside. He would cooperate in any way he could. Though, he knew he didn't have to like it.

He folded the note back up and returned to his bunk to finish his lunch. He then pondered, looking at the paper in his hand, _do I have to eat the note too?_

Later that afternoon, Hogan did more of his squeaky wheel routine with Klink to in regards to the 'top secret' prisoner. In true fashion, Hogan started directly after barging into the Kommandant's office.

"Ok, Kommandant what's going on? Everybody in camp knows that this secret prisoner of yours went into the cooler yesterday afternoon, _after_ Axis Annie showed up. My guess is she's trying to get whoever it is to do propaganda broadcasts and he nixed it. If he's in the cooler, then that puts him under your responsibility and if he's under your responsibility I should be allowed to see him."

Klink looked at Hogan, exasperated. "Hogan, how many times do I have to tell you? The man is _not_ a prisoner of war! He is a prisoner of the Gestapo."

"He's an American officer captured by the enemy. He should be classified as a POW and given the rights of all POW's—"

"--Under the Geneva Convention," Klink said blandly with Hogan.

"Well?" Hogan continued. "They're holding him in a POW camp! Doesn't the Gestapo have jails of it's own?"

"He's only here temporarily, Hogan, I told you that. It is out of my control, there is nothing I can do. It is a matter between the Gestapo and the Propaganda Ministry. Disssssmissssed." Klink gave a salute, indicating the conversation was over.

But it wasn't over for Hogan. "Yeah, the Propaganda Ministry," he said. "That's what you meant by that crack the other day, about us regretting our generosity.  You knew all along that the Propaganda Ministry was going to try to use this fella in some scheme. Sounds to me like he was _kidnapped_. That's why you keep telling me he's not a POW. And if the Propaganda Ministry is going to all this trouble, it must be somebody pretty important."

Klink slapped his hand down on his desk and glared up at Hogan. "Very well, Colonel Hogan, I'll humor you." Klink stood up from the desk and approached Hogan. "For your information, it _is_ somebody important. Somebody _very_ well known not just in your country but all over the world. And when the Propaganda Ministry decides it's time, you will know just who, exactly, it is. But until that time, you will get no such information from me." Klink saluted again. "_Dissmissed__,_ Hogan."

The door to the office opened and Shultz came in. "Herr Kommandant...uh--" Shultz looked at Colonel Hogan and then at Klink.

"Yes, Shultz, what is it?"

Shultz chose his words carefully. "Herr Kommandant, the prisoner in the cooler has reconsidered."

"Very well, Shultz, I will let Hauptman Riegels know."

"Reconsidered?" Hogan said. "Reconsidered what?"

"Hogan you were dismissed! Shultz! Get Hogan out of here!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" Shultz turned to Hogan, who turned to the door.

"I can't believe it, Kommandant," Hogan said. "You're letting them take over the camp..." he muttered as he left the office.

Klink was about to call him back to explain himself but then just waved a hand at the closing door. It was just Hogan being Hogan as usual.

Back in the barracks, the heroes gathered at the table when Hogan returned.

"You know, instead of calling Klink the Iron Eagle, he should be called the Iron Lip," Hogan said. "Even though he took a moment to gloat again, he didn't name names. Of course, I'm not pushing him that hard either. I also heard from Shultz that Miller has 'reconsidered,' so we should be seeing our friendly local Gestapo man back along with Frick and Frack."

"Then what happens, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

Hogan sighed. "As much as I hate to say this LeBeau, I don't know. We'll have to wait and see the first move the Propaganda Ministry makes, where they might take him and then figure out how we can tag along."

"Hey, maybe we can be Stalag 13's answer to the Crew Chiefs," Carter suggested in humor.

Hogan chuckled. "Yeah..." He stopped and a light came on in his dark eyes. "Yeaaah. If Miller can suggest that he needs vocalists for this broadcast, we could tag along that way."

"What if he doesn't?" Newkirk asked.

"Well, then _we_ can suggest he needs vocalists for the broadcast."

The entrance to the tunnel suddenly clattered open and Kinch came up the ladder. He stepped out, slapped the top bunk and the entrance closed. He turned to the Colonel and held out a piece of paper. "Message from London. Keep in mind, sir, this is directly quoted."

Hogan unfolded the paper. "To Colonel Hogan from Headquarters, regarding Major Miller...what the hell is taking you so long?" Hogan rolled his eyes. "This is turning out to be an impatient war! What do they think, I can just spring him out like that?" Hogan snapped his fingers. "He's being held in solitary confinement and nobody's even supposed to know he's here. And you can bet if the Krauts knew that we know he's here, they'd move him faster than you can say Kalamazoo and then we might not know where they take him and if we don't know where he is, we can't necessarily free him can we?"

"You want me to tell London that?"

"Absolutely not. You tell London, quote, I'm working on it, end quote."

With the entire camp placed on lock down once again, the signal was given for Major Miller to be released from the cooler.

Miller's back was facing the cell door. He heard the guard unlock the door but he didn't turn around. Just because he was agreeing didn't mean he had to be pleasant.

"Major Miller," Anna said. "We are glad you have reconsidered..."  She stood, holding the Major's jacket and glasses.

Hogan was right, Miller hated this. The Major let out a deep breath and turned around. He slowly stepped toward the door of the cell and the blur that was Anna. He saw the blur of black and red out of the corner of his eye and knew Hochstetter was there too. He looked at Anna, seeing the US Army brown material she was holding in her hands.

"My jacket and glasses please..."

He saw her hand move and he reached for his glasses. With eyesight returned, he then received his jacket. He put the jacket on, straightened it upon his shoulders and buttoned it up. He said nothing as he stepped out of the cell and brushed past Major Hochstetter.


	11. The Band

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

**Düsseldorf Radio Station**

**Düsseldorf****, ****Germany******

**November 1944**

**Day 4**

Having been involved with the organization of bands for so many years, Major Miller naturally fell into the routine of trying to take charge of the situation...within reason, considering where he was. He made it clear to the Propaganda Ministry that he wanted POW's for the band, more or less for communication purposes. Just because he spoke a few words of German on the ABSIE's broadcasts didn't make him fluent in the language by any means. He also was thinking that if he insisted on the players being POW's, would the opportunity be one that Colonel Hogan could use, to aid the escape?  Plus, with POW's, they would know what was really going on, thus they could put on a good front of preparing and rehearsing for this broadcast. Even if all they could play was _Mary Had a Little Lamb_.

Although the Propaganda Ministry listened to the request, Miller got the impression that they already had their own idea in mind. And POW's would not have anything to do with it. Little did he realize just what, exactly, the Propaganda Ministry had in mind.

Having basically been told that _he_ would be told what to do, and when to do it, Miller was then taken from Stalag 13 to Düsseldorf and to a radio station that was completely run by the Propaganda Ministry. The facilities had seen better days and the recording studio, Miller noted, was not what he was used to in London or back in the States, although the facilities in London had their own inadequacies. This studio was small, and fitting a band here was going to make for cramped quarters. Of course, that was assuming he was going to get something resembling a band.

The radio station was placed under moderate guard with a Gestapo man at each of the three entrances to the building and two were posted directly outside the recording studio's doors. Miller was pretty much locked into the recording studio alone until the band players arrived. He poked around at the few instruments that were in the room, an acoustic guitar with one string missing, the drum set which appeared to be complete but probably didn't sound very tight and he found the piano sounded about the same as the one back at Stalag 13. The rest of the few instruments, string instruments, seemed pretty much neglected. The room itself was in need of repairs; a few of the sound dampening tiles were missing from the walls and ceiling. It was actually quite depressing.

Miller looked through the glass in to the control room, which was unoccupied, and saw a mix of dated and modern components. The control room was just as depressing looking at the rest of the small studio.

Behind him, Miller heard the door to the studio be unlocked and opened. He turned to see a Gestapo guard step in and several German boys followed, some of them not looking much older than sixteen. They all carried an instrument, trumpets, clarinet, trombones, saxophones, some in cases, some not. Three of the boys wore Hitler Youth uniforms. The other six boys wore civilian clothes. All of them looked unsure of what they were doing there.

Major Miller suddenly wasn't so sure either. Was the Propaganda Ministry kidding? Kids? Okay, so they didn't want him to have POW's but...._kids??_

The Gestapo guard stepped back out of the studio and closed the door, locking it. The studio was silent as the German youths and Miller looked at each other for an awkward moment. Miller took a breath and was about to speak when one of the older boys at the back looked back at him and suddenly seemed to behold horror. "Sie bist ihn!" _You are him!_ 

Miller blinked. All he knew of what the boy said was "sie" which was German for "you." He stepped back. For all he knew he'd been cursed. One of the other boys turned and shushed the boy that had spoken, but he kept going. "Der ist er! Das amerikanische bandleader, Glenn Miller!" _That is him! The American bandleader, Glenn Miller!_The only piece of that Miller caught was his own name and American bandleader. Several of the boys looked at him differently, recognizing him and then began to talk fast amongst themselves.

_  
Great,_ Miller thought. _I'm going to be whacked upside the head with a clarinet by some little Nazi kid...._

One of the Hitler Youth boys spoke up and shushed the others. He then stepped forward and looked at Major Miller, smiling. "You are Glenn Miller."

Miller wasn't sure he could trust the smile. "Um...yes, I am. You speak English?"

"Yes." The boy looked at one of the trombone players. "Ahren speaks English as well. You must pardon the others here...all of us enjoy your music but, we do not understand why you are here, instead of in England."

Miller relaxed only marginally. "I was captured by the Gestapo," he said and stepped forward cautiously to the group. "And brought here."

The boy translated to the others. Several of them muttered something with contempt and Miller's sense of alert started to fade.

"That is why the broadcasts stopped..." the boy said to Miller. The Major nodded and wondered if these kids were Swing Youths, the kind the Gestapo arrested for listening or playing swing music. They knew who he was by sight, they knew of the broadcasts...and judging from the instruments in hand, they knew how to play the music. They had to be, why else would the Propaganda Ministry bring them here, if these kids _couldn't_ play swing music?

"My band was told that if they played," Miller explained to the blonde haired boy, "the Gestapo would kill me."

The boy translated. Miller saw the looks of anger on the young faces. There was more muttering, possibly cursing.

"All of us were arrested by the Gestapo for playing swing music too," the boy explained. "The Nazis....they do not like the American music."

"I know." Yes, they were Swing Youths. Miller gestured to the band chairs for the boys to sit down. They did and he too pulled up a chair and sat down. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked at the boy who was doing all of the translating. "What is your name?"

"Hans."

"Hans, were you or any of these boys told why you were being brought here today, with instrument in hand?"

Hans translated the question. Miller understood the chorus of 'nien' that followed.

"None of us," the boy said.

"Well I'll tell you. You've all been brought here because the Propaganda Ministry wants to make broadcasts to German youths just like you, and tell them how great and wonderful the Third Reich is and that they should pledge themselves to the future of the Reich and the tremendous responsibility that lies ahead. And they want to use swing music to do it."

Hans translated to the group. Before he finished, there was the collective shaking of heads and Miller could pick up on the dislike that the youths vocalized. One of the sax players spoke up directly to Hans and the blonde haired Hitler Youth member nodded before turning back to Miller.

"Herr Miller, swing music is part of our curriculum to be against everything the Third Reich stands for. They know that and that is why they arrest us. They put us in camps, they try to send us to the Hitler Youth. They do everything they can to break the spell, and some times they succeed. But other times, we still carry the music..." the boy pointed to his chest. "In here. You understand why we do not like the idea of using the music to help them."

"Oh believe me, I understand. Because I'm not too crazy about all of this myself...."

"But the Propaganda Ministry and the Gestapo leave us little choice," Hans finished.

Miller nodded grimly.

"Ich speile nicht für Nazin," _I will not play for the Nazis,_ the second of the three sax players spoke up. A few others spoke their agreement. The other boys just remained quiet.  Miller looked at Hans.

"He says he will not play for the Nazis."

Miller sighed. "I don't blame him," he conceded. He stood up from the chair and paced a moment in front of the bandstand keeping his gaze downward and away from the young musicians. He felt a little selfish about all of this. The only reason he was really there was because Hogan had said to agree to do it, because the Colonel had a plan to get him out of Germany. Now he was asking these kids to go against one of their dearest principles, a principle he held himself, in order to facilitate his escape. And that wasn't fair.

At the same time, however, these kids had the greatest opportunity before them. For a little while at least, they could play the music that they loved so dearly and not be reprimanded for it. Miller had to admit he was curious as to how well these kids could play. Most of his AEF band members were in their early twenties...but the kids here didn't look much older than 16. If even that. Maybe they weren't really very good.

"Aber ich spiele für Sie," _But I will play for you._

Miller turned around and looked at Hans. "He will play for you," the young boy said with a smile.

Miller looked at the young musicians and saw them as they nodded their heads. Although he appreciated this, he didn't like the fact that he had another motive for all of this. And he really couldn't tell them about it. Despite the boys' reactions to his capture and to the Ministry wanting to use them for this broadcast, the sight of the three boys in the Hitler Youth uniforms gave Miller pause. Maybe they were on his side...maybe they weren't. If he said anything it could be reported to the Gestapo, and then it would be all over.

On the other hand, he couldn't back out either, not without arousing even more suspicion. The die had been cast and it was too late to change his mind now. 

So, he resigned himself to the fate and he nodded to young musicians. "Well," he said. "Let's see what you boys can play..." He looked at Hans. "Would you ask if any of them would like to start first and if not would you start first?"

The boy nodded. He turned to the group and asked the question. From the back a hand went up and a dark haired boy stood up with his trumpet.

"Hallo," Miller said, deciding to try an use some of the German he had learned. "Dien name?"

The boy smiled. "Erik."

"All right, Erik, let's have a listen..."

The boy paused a moment to think of a tune. He looked at Hans. "Schnell oder langsam?"

Hans looked at Miller. "Fast or slow?"

"Both."

"Beide," Hans said to Erik. The trumpet player nodded and raised the instrument to play.

The small studio became quiet, except for the sound of one lone trumpet playing _Stardust_. The boy was a little nervous at the start but the sound grew strong and the notes were held perfectly. Miller almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. In fact, he was so struck by it, he slowly sat back down in the chair and just watched the boy as he played.

The boy played a shortened version of the song and when he finished he lowered the instrument in front of him and looked at Major Miller.

Miller was amazed. He smiled and looked at Hans. "That was incredible! How old is he?"

Hans translated the praise and the question. Erik nodded to Miller and said, "Danke. Ich bin vierzehn."

"He's fourteen."

"Fourteen..." _Fourteen years old and he plays like that?!  _He looked at Erik. "What else can you play?"

Hans translated and Erik grinned, raising the instrument again. He then blew out the opening note of _Pennsylvania__ 6-5000_ and Miller saw as a couple of the other boys raised their instruments to join him. This prompted all of the boys to ready their instruments and begin playing. They played through the first part coming to the first stop and all of the kids suddenly shouted out: "Pennsylvania six five thousand!"

Miller smiled and sat back, listening to the young players. He joined them on the second vocal refrain. "Pennsylvania six five thousand!"

Erik skipped ahead to the trumpet solo which then led to the sax solo. The sax player, one of the civilian dressed kids, hit a wrong note and the song fell apart by that point as the kids started giggling. But Miller had heard plenty to know that he was dealing with some kids who were extremely serious musicians.

"Est tut mir leid," the sax player said to Miller. _I apologize._

Miller chuckled. "It's all right," he said. He looked at the various faces in the band. "I get the feeling however, based on what you just played, that you boys have all played together before..." He looked over at Hans for the answer.

The young boy nodded. "Yes. We were all in the same band, until the Gestapo arrested us a couple of months ago. We had other players too but they were older than us and sent to the Army."

Miller looked at the three uniformed boys. "And you three were sent to the Hitler Youth."

Hans nodded. "They will take us into the Army soon enough. They already train us like soldiers. They have us doing the tasks of soldiers."

"What about the others? Are they too young for Hitler Youth or did they resist?"

"They resisted. You see Herr Miller, the choice was to join Hitler Youth and be allowed to stay with our families, or not join and be sent to detention camps. The other boys here have no family left, so there was no reason to join the HJ."

Ahren, the trombone player who understood English, quickly explained to the other boys what was being said. One of the Hitler Youth boys, the third sax player, spoke up.

"Einige von uns haben keinen Grund, im HJ zu bleiben..." _Some of us have no reason to remain in the HJ..._ the 16-year-old said.

Miller looked at the brown haired sax player that had spoken and then to Hans for the translation. "Adler says he has no reason to stay in the HJ." Hans hesitated.

Miller knew why and he looked at Adler. "I'm sorry," he said.

Adler nodded, understanding the sympathy in the Major's voice, even if he didn't understand what was spoken. The boy dropped his gaze for a moment, holding his composure. It was hard to be strong, but he would stay strong. He had made a promise that he would.

In the awkward silence of the studio, Miller felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. Before it got to be too much, Adler looked at him.

"Major Miller..., da wir hier sind, warum nicht spielen wir etwas Musik?" _Major Miller...since we are here, why don't we play some music? _

The other boys nodded. "Ja..."

Hans translated. "He says why don't we play some music, seeing we are all here."

Miller looked at Adler and saw the boy nod. He glanced at the others and then looked at Hans. "Yes, why don't we?"

The rest of the afternoon was spent being introduced to the young players, finding out what each of the players could play and then organizing the small band into something that sounded fairly decent. Major Miller had no sheet music to go by or to give to the musicians, so he basically had to go by trial and error, and use the various songs that the kids had all played regularly before they had been arrested. One of the songs was his own signature song, _Moonlight Serenade._ This song showcased the clarinet player, 16 year-old Avril, the one who had nearly had a conniption upon recognizing the band leader, and again Miller listened in amazement as the boy played the solo.

The others all demonstrated their abilities as well. The first sax player, 15 year old Johann, whose solo earlier during _Pennsylvania__ 6-5000_ fell apart, redeemed himself in quick fashion. The second sax player, 16 year-old Emery, and the third, Adler, showed themselves to be quite competent. Adler seemed much more content now that he was playing music.

Sixteen-year old Hans played his trumpet just as good as Erik had.

The trombonists were also quite capable. Fifteen-year old Ahren, the other boy who spoke English seemed quite comfortable with solos. The third HJ boy, 15-year-old Josef seemed more comfortable playing rhythm, but demonstrated an ability to solo. The last trombonist was 14-year-old Roderick, who preferred not to solo, but could hold a rhythm section very well.

With soloists for clarinet, saxophone, trumpet and trombone, the kids then played the Benny Goodman song _Flat Foot Floogee_, a somewhat nonsense tune that had all four instruments featured for solos. Miller found this unique as he knew the song originally had Goodman's clarinet solo twice, but apparently the kids had decided to swap out one of the clarinet solos for a trombone solo. Hearing the kids try to make sense of the nonsense English lyrics was amusing as Miller knew on the record of the song it was difficult to distinguish if they were saying _bright eyes_ or something totally different.

Although the young Germans played well, there were instruments missing from the group that would have made the band sound more complete. The total make up of this group consisted of one clarinet player, three saxophones, three trombone players, and two trumpet players. There was no drummer, no bass player and no piano player.

Miller considered this during a break. If the circumstances were different, he would have basically thought the hell with the Propaganda Ministry and left the band as it was, essentially providing beat less, incomplete swing on the day of the broadcast. But since his original request for POW's was declined, he still figured he could try to provide Hogan the opportunity to be out of the camp if it was needed, by insisting on POW's again.

Half way through the last song of the afternoon, Hauptmann Reigels and Anna came into the studio. Major Miller saw them but ignored them for the moment, leading the band through the rest of the song. When they finished, the young musicians set their instruments down on their laps and did not look at the Ministry officials who were in the studio. Major Miller turned to the two.

Anna smiled at the Major. "They sound very good Herr Major."

"They would sound better if I had a drummer, a piano player and a bass player," Miller replied.

"We tried to find those for you but were unable to," Reigels said.

The conversation was momentarily interrupted when a Gestapo guard came in to escort the boys out. The young musicians packed their instruments up and stood, filing out of the studio single file. Miller watched them go and each player nodded to him as they departed. When the last one was gone and the door closed, Miller looked back at Reigels and Anna.

"I also asked for POW's for this broadcast. I guess you were unable to find any of those too."

"Unfortunately, Major Miller, you are not to be seen by any Allied soldier, including POW's," Anna said. "Yet. Besides, this broadcast is aimed at German youth, therefore it is more appropriate that German youth be heard playing the music and voicing their support and loyalty to the Reich."

"Spare me the rhetoric. If that were true, then you wouldn't need me here. This broadcast may be directed toward Germans but I know you'll take my being here and doing this as a gloriously traitorous act and rub it right in the faces of the Allies."

Anna and Reigels exchanged glances. Reigels then looked at the Major. "It is true, Herr Major, that your capture presents us with many opportunities."

"Don't count on them. In the meantime, if you want swing music for this broadcast, I'm going to need sheet music and you better find me a drummer, a piano and a bass player. POW or otherwise."

The studio door opened again and two Gestapo guards entered to escort Major Miller out of the studio. Miller glanced at the guards then looked at Anna and Riegels, saying nothing more. He turned and walked to the door, leaving with the guards.


	12. What's a Colonel to do?

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 4**

Kinch came up from the tunnel and found Colonel Hogan sitting at the wooden table with the others.

"Just heard from the Underground in Düsseldorf. Miller's there. They're keeping an eye on him. The Krauts kept him holed up at a Ministry radio station pretty much all day and just took him to a hotel a little while ago. Looks like other musicians are involved, juveniles..."

"Juveniles?" Carter said.

Newkirk snorted. "So much for them lettin' him have POW's for that band they wanted."

"I was counting on that too," Hogan said. "I think Miller was counting on that."

"You mean he was trying to offer a way for us to go to Düsseldorf with him?" Carter asked.

Hogan nodded. "He knows what we do here and I think he knows that sometimes we have to be out of this camp in order to do what we do."

"But the Underground could pick up from this point," Kinch said. "They can get Miller out of Düsseldorf."

"But Miller doesn't know about the Underground. If somebody he doesn't know, shows up to escort him somewhere he might panic. Besides, did the Underground say they had a plan of action for getting him out?"

"No, they didn't. They figure you have one."

Hogan sighed. "That's the problem. I _don't_." He stood up from the chair and fell into pacing behind the stove and around the table, behind where Newkirk and LeBeau sat.

"But Colonel, you told the Major that you _did_..." Carter said.

Hogan stopped pacing and looked at the Sergeant. The dark eyes, however, were not angry. "I know..." he said softly. "We couldn't do anything with him in the cooler anyway, we had to get him out, but...I also didn't want him to spend any more time than he had to in there."

"The cooler's the cooler," Newkirk said. "We've all spent some time in it."

"Yes, but Miller hadn't before now. See, Miller wasn't trained like a soldier or a pilot, like we all were. The psychological training, the physical training. Not to say he's soft, the conversation we heard with the Propaganda Ministry is proof of the contrary to that. He's got brass and he knows how to use it. And I've got a gut feeling that if he had to, he'd fight like hell. But when I watched him be marched to that cooler, and then to see Hochstetter come out with the jacket..." Hogan paused and looked at his coffee cup. "I dunno, maybe it's because he _is_ Glenn Miller...and I just don't think the Krauts have to treat him like a dog to make their point."

There was a pause and then Kinch spoke, understanding what the Colonel was trying to say. "You're concerned what kind of effect this could all have on him..." he said.

Hogan looked at his radio man and nodded. "I don't want him to go through what some of us here have gone through. I don't _think_ he would be subjected to any of that, but I wouldn't trust those Gestapo goons as far as I could throw them." The Colonel stepped back to the head of the table and placed his coffee cup down.

"Well now that he's out of the cooler, and we know where he is in Düsseldorf, what are we going to do?" Kinch asked.

Hogan paused in thought and placed his foot up on the chair, resting his arm across his knee. "After roll call tonight, I'll go to Düsseldorf and see what the situation is, maybe I can get to him and tell him about the Underground. It may be possible the Underground can spring him within the next 12 hours."

"How are you going to get to Düsseldorf? It's an awfully long walk, Colonel..." Newkirk said.

"Hopefully somebody in Hammelburg will be nice enough to give me a ride," Hogan replied and looked at Kinch.

The radio man grinned. "I'll see if there's a taxi available..." Kinch turned and headed for the tunnel.

"Colonel," Carter spoke up, "I've been thinkin'....couldn't we have tried to get the Major out during the night when he was still in the guest quarters? Bring him here and then get him out through the emergency tunnel?"

"I thought of that. And had we done that, Major Miller would have been the first successful escape from Stalag 13…."

"…and Hochstetter would have torn this camp apart," Newkirk finished.

"Exactly. Miller is a Gestapo prisoner...not a POW. And assuming Hochstetter didn't discover our operation, he would have forced the blame on Klink anyway and had him sent to the Russian Front. Either way, we would have been out of business."

Carter nodded, understanding.

"So not only did we have to get him out of the cooler, we had to get him out of Stalag 13 all together," Newkirk said.

LeBeau snorted. "Yeah, by telling him to agree to commit treason!"

"He won't be in Düsseldorf long enough to commit treason," Hogan said confidently. But in the back of his mind, there was a seed of doubt. He was under pressure from London, he had no idea what kind of situation there was in Düsseldorf, he didn't know how quick the Propaganda Ministry would throw together a broadcast and above all that…he had no immediate plan. As he stared into his coffee cup, he wondered if he was losing his touch…


	13. The Major's Decision

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

**Düsseldorf Hotel**

**Düsseldorf****, ****Germany******

**November 1944**

**Day 4**

For the first time that day, Miller was introduced to his temporary quarters, a room on the sixth floor of the Düsseldorf Hotel.  Allowed to retain the kit the men at Stalag 13 had put together for him, he carried it and his crush cap in hand as he was escorted into the hotel by the two Gestapo guards. The few guests of the hotel that loitered in the lobby gawked at him as he passed by, recognizing more the uniform he wore, not so much who he was. Although some did know who he was.  The hotel staff watched too, more or less put out because the Gestapo had come in and just taken over. The hotel manager was perturbed because he had to give up six rooms to accommodate them. Six rooms the Gestapo wasn't paying for.

Major Miller wasn't aware that the kids were being held at the same hotel, on a different floor. And none of the kids knew that the Major was being held at the same hotel either. The arrangement had been the idea of Hochstetter's, not having wanted to assign more men than necessary for the guard duty and the securing of more than one building. So he assigned three men to the floor the kids were on and one guard to the floor Miller was on. Two additional men were posted in the hotel's lobby, and there were four more men that did alternating, routine patrols around the building. To leave the hotel, the kids, or Miller would have had to go out the windows, and with Miller six floors up, and the kids eight, that was quite a drop.

Of course, Hochstetter lamented the fact that there were perfectly good holding cells at Gestapo Headquarters that would have served the same purpose. But the Propaganda Ministry nixed the idea, explaining that if Miller and the kids are held in comfortable surroundings, Miller especially, then they may be more cooperative, especially if the Gestapo jail was used as punishment for resistance. Hochstetter pointed out that being nice to Americans didn't work and warned the Ministry officials to be watchful of Major Miller, especially after his demonstration of defiance at the LuftStalag the day before. The Ministry officials assured Hochstetter they were well aware.

As such, the Ministry officials gave Hochstetter a task he would enjoy. At the same time Miller was being escorted to his hotel room, Hochstetter was in the process of interrogating each of the band members individually, asking them what took place, what was discussed and what songs they practiced earlier that afternoon. The Gestapo Major took notes and after each questioning session he compared them to what the other boys said. The boys all pretty much said the same thing, that most of the talking took place between Major Miller and Hans, the HJ boy who could also speak English, but that Hans had translated back for all. The kids all knew Miller had been captured, and they all knew that they had been selected to be part of a broadcast to show their allegiance to the Reich and to use swing music to convince those who had refused, to also vow their allegiance to the Reich. The boys all seemed to accept this obligation, though Hochstetter could tell none of them agreed with it.

Hochstetter found that amusing. _If only they really knew why they have been selected for the broadcast_... Despite having to be the babysitters for the prize catch, Hochstetter was deviously amused at the idea of Major Miller being used as bait for a series of Gestapo raids against the Swing Youths. The little brats wouldn't have a clue.

And Major Miller had no idea either, but there was no ignoring the gnawing feeling that was tugging at him for other reasons. Alone in his hotel room, he was surrounded by the quiet and his thoughts. There was no way he could allow that band to play swing music on the day of the broadcast. Not for Nazi's, not for the purpose he had been told, that being as a way to promote all that was good about the Third Reich. There wasn't _anything_ good about the Third Reich. What was good about living in fear? What was good about being thrown in jail for playing a certain type of music, or having a certain opinion? What was good about intimidation, persecution and terrorization?

Nothing. Just trying to comprehend all of it boggled the Major's mind. But one thing was clear....there was no way in _hell_ he was going to let that band play swing music for that broadcast. He would not be part of the Nazi's attempt to use swing music to manipulate, coerce and lie to the Germans who would be listening and he wouldn't let those kids be part of it either. Come the day of the broadcast, if things got that far, he was going to find some way to tell the Propaganda Ministry to take a long walk off a short pier.

There was just one problem...if Colonel Hogan didn't have this plan for getting him back to England, Miller, truthfully, would have spent the rest of the war in the cooler at Stalag 13 instead of agreeing to the Propaganda Ministry's idea. But he had agreed, in order to help facilitate the Colonel's plan, and now these kids were involved...and they shouldn't have been to begin with. And it was this thought that intensified that gnawing feeling the Major was experiencing.

Now there were nine other lives added into the equation. Although maybe, just maybe, this all could be over with before the broadcast. Miller figured if he escaped soon, then the kids would just be sent back....

...to camps.

_Prison camps…_

And the three HJ kids would go back to their Hitler Youth groups and have more of the "glorious Fatherland and Heil Hitler" drivel pounded into their heads. And then they'd be sent off to the Army, like Hans said, 16 and 17 year old kids, with guns in hand, not knowing what the heck they were doing and dying on a battlefield somewhere for a cause they didn't believe in...

_Stop it_. Miller sighed and stepped over to the window, looking out on the town of Düsseldorf, shrouded in a deep blue dusk. He thought of those kids. Nine innocent lives...

Or were they all innocent?

Miller was usually optimistic about people, but had a healthy amount of doubt and cynicism. And the three boys in the Hitler Youth uniforms were weighing on that doubt at the moment. Miller knew better than to judge based on appearances but seeing those red and black swastika arm bands on the shirt sleeves of three jazz musicians was...weird to say the least. But the kids seemed to act like that reminder of the Third Reich wasn't even there. He recalled what they had told him, how they had been arrested and then given the option to join the HJ or go to concentration camps, and they had joined the HJ because otherwise they would have been separated from their families. And then there was Adler, who no longer had any reason to stay in the HJ.

For some reason, the HJ uniforms were messing up his faith. Miller was willing to believe the kids were honest but...he also wondered if there was the possibility they were lying to him. Maybe they had been picked by the Gestapo to be moles, making sure everything was being kept on the Nazified up and up and they only told him their various stories in order to gain his sympathy and trust.

He sighed and turned away from the window. He would have to be cautious. Even if it turned out that they hadn't been picked by the Gestapo to be moles, the Gestapo could pressure them to report any thing suspicious. And what could be more suspicious than to hear him talk about the possibility of escaping? Even more suspicious would be the suggestion of the kids making the escape with him....

_Don't get your hopes up..._ Fate had tipped the scale when he was abducted from Broadcasting House and he knew, deep down, that there was very little he had control over now. Whatever was meant to be was going to be. Some how, though, that wasn't good enough. Those kids deserved more than to just be brought in, without choice, and then be left behind once Miller escaped and left to face God knew what. No... he had to do something for them. Just what exactly, he wasn't sure.

Meanwhile, two of the band members were doing something for him.  After Hochstetter left, Hauptmann Reigels went to each room to visit the boys and basically ask the same kind of questions Hochstetter asked. The boys had been paired off by twos, with Hans being the odd man out and having a room of his own. Ahren and Roderick shared a room and it was Roderick that made a request from Reigels about possibly having another trombone, explaining that his was several years old and was showing it's age and wear and tear. Roderick expressed his concern that the instrument would not be sufficient come the day of the broadcast. Reigels considered this a fair request and promised the youngster that a new instrument would be delivered in the morning. After Reigels left, Ahren looked at Roderick, puzzled.

"Your trombone is only two years old," he said.

"I know. I didn't ask for another one for myself. I asked it for Herr Miller." Roderick smiled. "When he stands in front of the band, it seems like something is missing."


	14. An Attempt

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any actual resemblance to persons or historical persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Hogan's Heroes characters, settings, ect. are owned by other entities who have not endorsed this fic nor have they given permission for their use. Author makes no claims to these characters and is not making any profit off their use.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author or any legally assigned agents of the author.

© Copyright: ­2004. Lisa Philbrick

**Düsseldorf Hotel**

**Düsseldorf****, ****Germany******

**November 1944**

**Day 4**

Brandeis Fritz was a dark haired, stout individual, who looked more like a German baker than the leader of the local Underground. But in fact, he was both, and his baker's trade had provided a most convenient and useful cover. He had run the Underground unit in Düsseldorf for almost two years and was always keenly aware of what went on in the area, if not by information coming in the usual channels, then by the orders for pastries for parties for high ranking German officials. When Colonel Hogan had sent word that the Gestapo would be bringing in a very special US Army officer to town, Fritz had ordered the usual sentries to take positions to keep an eye out for the arrival. Hogan, as always, did not take the chance by revealing names through the communiqué and Fritz treated the information and the impending arrival as he treated any other such event, with the utmost importance. He never would have guessed in a million years who the special Army officer was and had never expected one of his sentry's to report back to him in absolute shock.

"You will not believe who it is!" the young man had said, his eyes wild with surprise.

Fritz could feel the clamp around his heart, thinking that a very high ranking American officer had been captured. _Was it Patton? __Arnold__? God, don't tell me they somehow grabbed Eisenhower?!_

"Who??" he prompted.

"Glenn Miller!"

Fritz blinked. "Glenn Miller?" He stared at the sentry for a moment. "What the hell is this war coming too??"

"I don't know, but I know it was him. I have no doubt."

Fritz had immediately sent the sentry back out to help keep an eye on the bandleader and to report his whereabouts whenever they changed. Once Miller had been taken to the Düsseldorf Hotel, Fritz sent a communiqué back to Colonel Hogan. Hogan had then replied that he would be coming to Düsseldorf.

So Fritz stood in an alley way, just outside the door of his bakery where his organization sometimes met, smoking a cigarette and casually waiting for Colonel Hogan's arrival. As Fritz waited, he wondered what kind of plan was going to be involved for getting the Major back to England. Surely it was going to have to be a doozy....

A car pulling into the alley distracted Fritz from his thoughts. The car approached slowly and then flashed it's headlights twice. Fritz tossed his cigarette aside and moved toward the car. The passenger door opened and Colonel Hogan stepped out, dressed in civilian clothes.

Fritz nodded at the Colonel as he approached. "Guten Abend," Fritz said.

"Good to see you again, Fritz," Hogan replied. Fritz led the Colonel into the building as the car backed out of the alley.

"One of my sentry's recognized your special officer," Fritz said, after the door closed. "Tell me he's wrong."

"If he saw Glenn Miller he's not wrong."

"It's really him??"

Hogan nodded. "Propaganda Ministry's prize catch."

Fritz shook his head. "I can't believe it," he sighed. "London wants him back fast I'm sure."

"They do. And we're going to do everything we can to get him back to London. Your sentries have been watching him?"

"Ja. The Major is being held at the hotel just down the street. My men have been keeping an eye on him since they brought him into town this morning."

"Do we know what floor he's on?" Hogan asked.

Fritz nodded. "Sixth."

"What's Hochstetter got for security?"

"Extremely lax, considering. He has two guards in the lobby, four guards doing alternating routine patrols around the hotel and one guard on the sixth floor."

"_One_ guard??"

Fritz nodded. "Apparently Hochstetter doesn't think Major Miller is likely to try to escape, let alone put up much of a fight."

"Hmmm..." Hogan thought a moment. "Is the guard directly outside Miller's door?"

"No. The guard just patrols the hall."

Hogan nodded, his thoughts continuing. "How often do they rotate the guard on the sixth floor?"

"We don't know. Miller's only been there for a few hours. We don't know what kind of shifts Hochstetter's going to run."

Hogan nodded again. He paced for a moment. "Could we get in?"

"Sure, we can pose as hotel staff." Frtiz looked at Hogan. "What are you thinking, Colonel?"

Hogan stopped pacing and looked at Fritz, a gleam in his brown eyes. "I'll tell you exactly what I'm thinking...."

Fritz and Hogan gained access to the hotel through a back door, where a member of Fritz's group let them in and then provided them with hotel wait staff uniforms. Bypassing the lobby and main stairs, they took the service stairs. Knowing Miller was on the sixth floor, Fritz and Hogan left the service stairs at the fifth floor and resumed the ascent using the main stairs up to the sixth.

Hogan and Fritz each carried a server's tray and as expected they were stopped by the guard. Fritz explained they were delivering a late dinner to one of the other guests on the floor. The guard asked to see what was hidden beneath the trays. They showed him and the guard nodded in approval. Hogan and Fritz then turned in one direction while the guard turned in the other. They paused as the guard took a few steps away from them and Fritz put his server tray down on a nearby hall table. He then turned back to the guard and with pistol in hand, he brought the butt of the gun down on the back of the neck of the guard.

The guard fell to the floor in a heap, his rifle hitting the floor with a thundering thump.

Down the hall, a restless American bandleader was still awake. He heard the thump and subsequent commotion and he went to the door to see what was going on. When he looked out into the hall, he saw two of the hotel staffers dragging the Gestapo guard down the hall toward him. One of the staffers looked up at him and Miller recognized, with surprise, Colonel Hogan.

"We're coming in," Hogan said. Miller stepped back into the room and held the door open as Hogan and Fritz carried the Gestapo guard into the room. He then shut the door and the Gestapo guard was dumped on the floor.

Hogan turned to Miller's questioning look. "We're getting you out of here. Right now." He glanced at Fritz who was starting to remove the uniform from the Gestapo guard. "We're going to have you wear this uniform..."

"What?!"

"_Just do it_, we don't have time to argue." Fritz handed the Gestapo uniform jacket to Hogan who passed it to Miller. The guard's boots and trousers were unceremoniously taken from him and passed to Hogan, who passed them to Miller. "Go on..."

Miller disappeared into the wash room and did a quick change from US Army brown to Gestapo black. He came back out and Hogan looked at him. Miller was not amused.

"If I'm caught dead in _this _uniform I'm going to come back and find you..."

Hogan said nothing and took the Major's US Army uniform jacket, trousers and shoes and put them on the bed, next to the pack that was the Major's kit. He quickly folded the trousers and jacket and put them in the pack. The Major's crush cap was then tucked into the pack and the pack was closed. Fritz, meanwhile, was handing the guard's helmet and rifle to the Major. He then tugged on the uniform coat, straightening it upon the Major's shoulders. The jacket was much too big on the Major.

Hogan took another look at the Major. "It'll have to do," he said. He handed the pack to Miller. "C'mon..." He walked to the door and Miller and Fritz followed.

Hogan opened the door and looked out on the hall, which was empty. He glanced at his watch and turned to Miller and Fritz. "That car should be here in about five minutes. Go."

Fritz stepped out into the hallway and Miller followed, hefting the rifle on his right shoulder, his pack slung over his left. The two went to the door of the service stairs and disappeared behind it.

Hogan left the unconscious Gestapo guard in the room and shut the door. He then walked, normally, toward the main stairs picking up both serving trays on the way and tried to appear unhurried as he approached a janitor's closet. He quickly placed the trays on a shelf in the closet and shut the door. He then walked back to the stairs and descended them casually. When he got to the third floor landing, he passed another Gestapo guard who was on his way up. Hogan slowed and looked back at the guard as he disappeared around the turn to the next flight of stairs.

"Oh Lord..." Hogan quickly turned and went back up the stairs to follow the guard.

Fritz and Major Miller, meanwhile, were descending the last few flights of stairs. When they reached the first floor landing, Miller paused to relieve his right shoulder of the weight from the weapon, while Fritz cautiously approached the heavy wooden door that led to the street outside. There was no window in it, meaning Fritz would have to open it just enough to peek out and hope he wasn't caught just by opening the door.

Miller watched as Fritz put his left hand on the door handle and took a deep breath before pulling the door open just a crack. The sidewalk and street looked empty for the moment. He pulled the door open a little wider, keeping a look out for Gestapo and for somebody to be standing outside of a car, smoking a cigarette. There was neither. Fritz glanced at his watch and figured he had another minute before the car was to pull up.

At the same time, Hogan had followed the other Gestapo guard back to the sixth floor. He watched from the stairs as the guard, when he didn't find his compatriot who he was to relieve for the night, rushed down the hall to what had been Miller's hotel room and found his comrade in there. With Miller missing, and his buddy's uniform missing, the guard immediately concluded that the American Major had escaped and he broke into a run back to the stairs. He rushed past Hogan, never giving him a second glance and thundered down the stairs.

Hogan bolted into a run down the sixth floor hall to the where the service stairs were located. If possible, he was thinking to get Miller back up to the sixth floor before the Gestapo mobilized.

Just before the guard went flying down the main stairs to alert his comrades, Fritz spotted two guards as they passed by the service door. He allowed the door to close just enough to leave a sliver of an opening and he paused, waiting for the two guards to pass by. After a few moments, he opened the door a little wider again and saw a car pull up to the curb. He watched this car, saw the lone person step out and stand by the vehicle and then saw the orange glow of flame from a lighter be placed to the end of a cigarette. Fritz looked at the Major and nodded. He opened the door wide, letting the Major step out first and then followed, neither of them hearing the hurried echoing steps coming down the service stairs behind them. The heavy wooden door closed.

The guard who had discovered Miller missing was alerting his comrades in the lobby. They immediately jumped to action, one man going outside to alert the men on patrol, while the other went with the first guard to check other exits of the hotel. The first being the service stairs.

Outside, two of the patrol guards, the same two Fritz had seen just a few moments earlier, were met by the lobby guard, who quickly explained the situation. The two men turned around and headed back in the direction they had come from. The lobby guard went the other way to find the other two patrol guards.

Fritz instructed the Major to walk to the car where the man stood smoking a cigarette and to get in. Miller nodded and took a few steps. Fritz veered off and started to go across the street.

Hogan made it to the first floor landing of the service stairs and found it empty. He had little time for reaction when the door leading to the rest of the hotel suddenly clicked open, forcing Hogan back up the stairs and out of sight of the two Gestapo guards who came through. The wooden door was yanked open and the Gestapo guards spilled out onto the sidewalk.

Miller swung around at the commotion behind him and saw the two guards coming toward him. In a panic he threw the rifle off his right shoulder and lobbed it at the guard that was coming closest to him. The guard went down upon contact with the rifle and Miller broke into a run, heading toward the back of the hotel.

"Halt!" the other guard shouted. He took off after Miller.

Across the street, Fritz turned at the sound and saw the American Major running. The man by the car was waving at Fritz frantically. _We have to get out of here! _Fritz hurried over to the car, demanding to know what happened.

"The guards came out of the service door. The Major panicked. We must get out of here or they will find us."

"Where's Colonel Hogan?"

"I don't know. But we must get away from here!" the man pulled the back door of his car open for Fritz. The underground leader had no choice but to get in. The man closed the door and jumped behind the wheel, the engine turning with a terrible shriek and the car lept away from the curb.

The two guards from the front of the hotel, saw the car as it took off into the dark of the street. Hurrying down the sidewalk they found their comrade who had taken the brunt of the rifle Miller had thrown at him, who was picking himself up off the sidewalk. They then heard the commotion down the sidewalk, where the Major's escape route was cut short.

The sudden sound of gunfire in the air brought everything along the street to an abrupt stop. Seeing two more Gestapo guards in front of him, one with rifle pointed in the air, the other with rifle pointed directly at him, forced Miller to stop running and immediately place his hands up. Although they didn't shoot directly at him, they _could have._ The guard behind Miller came up directly, preventing any chance for Miller to turn back the other way.

Hogan heard the hurried departure of a car....and then the shooting and he froze. "Oh _damn_..." Assuming the worst, Hogan leapt over the railing of the bottom stairs and carefully opened the door looking out on the sidewalk and street. He saw Miller was surrounded by Gestapo, who were escorting him back down the sidewalk. But the Major was standing, which although was a relief to the Colonel, the failure of the attempt weighed more heavily. Hogan closed the door and in defeat went through the doorway to the rest of the hotel, heading back to the kitchen area.

_HHHH_

In the few minutes it took Major Hochstetter to get from Gestapo Headquarters to the hotel, Major Miller had dressed back into his US Army uniform and returned the Gestapo uniform to the guard it had been taken from. Miller then sat in his room under the watchful eyes of four Gestapo guards, as they waited for Hochstetter to arrive.

Hochstetter was livid and he came storming into the hotel lobby and charged up the stairs to the sixth floor. Which was probably a good thing, for Miller, as the climb up all those stairs took some of the edge off the Gestapo Major. But he was quite upset when he arrived at Miller's room. A quick explanation was provided by one of the four Gestapo guards who pointed to the one who had been duped and also held up the pack that was Miller's kit. Hochstetter grabbed the pack angrily and then turned to Miller, scowling.

Miller looked back at him, neutral. _Boy I'm in trouble now..._

"Well Major..." Hochstetter said as he stepped toward Major Miller, "did you enjoy your walk?"

Miller drew in a deep breath. "I had to try it once," he replied.

"Once is all you _get!_" Hochstetter snarled through clenched teeth. He stepped up next to Miller and leaned forward so that he was directly face to face with the band leader. "Who helped you?"

"Nobody."

"Nobody?" Hochstetter found this a little hard to believe.

Miller feigned offense. "_Nobody..._I knocked your guard out myself._"_

Hochstetter puffed up but managed to maintain restraint. "You wish to test my authority, ja?"

"No," Miller said. "Frankly, I wish to get the hell out of here."

"I warned you when you first got here that if you tried to escape you would not be treated as lightly as other prisoners of war."

"Yes, I know. But I think your threats are a little empty, Major. There's one thing holding you back."

"_Nothing_ holds me back!"

Miller flinched a little but kept going, raising an eyebrow to Hochstetter. "Not even the Propaganda Ministry?"

Hochstetter growled and turned away from Miller in frustration. "The Gestapo are not babysitters!"

Miller found this amusing. "Are you implying I'm a waste of your time, Major?"

Hochstetter turned back to Miller. "With the exception of the one purpose you will be serving us..._yes_ you are complete waste of my time!"

Miller looked at Hochstetter, still amused. "That's good to know," he said.

Hochstetter's smile was sinister. "Don't get too brave, Herr Major. You assaulted one of my men, took his uniform and attempted to escape under my authority. This will not be forgotten. If it were up to me, you would be severely punished _right now_." Hochstetter stepped toward Miller. "However, do not believe that the Propaganda Ministry will let what you have tried to do this evening go unpunished. Hauptmann Reigels, I'm sure, will suggest appropriate course of action."

"Another night in the cooler?"

Hochstetter chuckled. "A Gestapo prison cell and the cooler of a Luftstalag are two very different things, Herr Major, and I would be more than happy to introduce you to a Gestapo prison cell..." Hochstetter paused and looked at the pack he held in his hand. "In the meantime, your pack is being confiscated and you will now have a guard posted directly outside your door. Although your continued health is dependent upon the Propaganda Ministry, remember that they will only take so much of your audacity."

_Before they cut the dogs loose. _Miller sat quietly, figuring he'd grated on the Gestapo Major's nerves enough. Although Hochstetter would have liked to have made more of a point to the American Major, he settled for Miller's silence. He looked to one of the guards and nodded before turning to leave the room. The guards were all then dismissed and the hotel room was emptied of Gestapo.

Miller let go a sigh. He took little comfort in the thought that the Propaganda Ministry was what was sparing him from Hochstetter's full Gestapo backed wrath.

_HHHH_

Hogan found his way back to Fritz's bakery and remained in Düsseldorf long enough for one of Fritz's sentries to gather some information on what the Gestapo reaction was to Miller's escape attempt. To Hogan's surprise, and concern, what the sentry overheard from two Gestapo guards at the hotel was that Miller had acted alone in the attempt. There was no suggestion of any outside help and no mention of the two hotel staffers. The guard who had been knocked out, apparently truly believed that it was Miller who had struck him from behind. Miller, himself, even said he did.

Hogan made plans to return to Düsseldorf the following night. Fritz made a promise to the Colonel that if there was another chance to rescue the Major before then, he and his group would take it and would let Hogan know what was going on. Colonel Hogan expected no less.

When he returned to Stalag 13 and the emergency tunnel, he found Kinch was waiting for him. There was no hiding the haggard look of defeat on the Colonel's face. "What happened?" Kinch asked.

"Nothing," Hogan replied. "Except I damn near got him killed."

Kinch looked at the Colonel, waiting for further explanation. Hogan looked at his radio man and let a rare moment of self-disappointment show. "We tried to sneak him out of the hotel but they caught him. Gestapo doesn't know Miller had help though, they think he acted alone." Hogan sighed. "Hochstetter more than likely went up one side of him and down the other...and I had to leave him there to take it. Every time I think I'm keeping him away from the Gestapo wrath, I do something that just brings it closer."

"Thing is..." Kinch said, "if he's taking the heat for the escape attempt, that protects the underground and preserves a future chance to get him out." Kinch paused a moment, considering how to broach the next subject. "Colonel, he knows the game. Don't you think you ought to stop treating him like a celebrity and treat him like a fellow soldier?"

Hogan looked at the sergeant defensively. "I'm not treating him--" The Colonel cut himself short, suddenly realizing Kinch was right. Hogan gave a soft snort and looked down. "I guess I have been putting him on a pedestal of sorts." He paced away from Kinch a moment. "I just don't want anything to happen to him. I want to get him back to England and back on that radio where he belongs and I want him back there in one piece and unscathed." Hogan looked at Kinch. "That's not too much to ask is it?"

"Of course not. But we both know that the escape route isn't the most comfortable trip to take. And I know he's not expecting a first class train ride here. He knows it's going to be a little rough. You keep trying to smooth this thing out for him, we'll never get him out of here."

Hogan paused, considering what Kinch just said. He softly chuckled. "You're right. He's shown that he knows what's going on and he's willing to do whatever I need him to do to help facilitate this thing." Hogan paused, recalling something Miller had said the first day he had been brought to Stalag 13. "You know he said he didn't think of himself as much of a soldier..." the Colonel looked at Kinch, "but he's wrong. And I guess I've been a little wrong myself."


	15. Open Invitation

__

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 5**

Unaware of the true meaning behind Major Miller's request of musicians, the Propaganda Ministry considered it only for what it was. A request for more musicians. They decided they would let him have POW's, as they couldn't find any youths that could play the instruments he wanted anyway. At least, not any that weren't already serving in the Wehrmacht and to take them away from their duties in the Wehrmacht would have taken an act from the Fuehrer himself. Goebbels didn't feel that was necessary and seeing as they had plans for future propaganda stunts that would involve the Major and "demoralized" POW's, they may as well start now. Major Miller's assessment of the Germans flaunting his capture was correct, and the Propaganda Ministry couldn't wait to unveil to the world the coup they had pulled. They had captured Glenn Miller and they would use him however they could to show that the Allied cause was flawed and failing and that the Reich would be victorious.

Of course, they based all of that on the erroneous assumption that Miller would cooperate. Little did they know Glenn Miller.

And little did Colonel Hogan know Major Glenn Miller. After the aborted attempt to get the Major out of Düsseldorf the night before, Hogan had been trying to organize a way for him and the heroes to get to Düsseldorf. He had no idea Miller was about to provide an open invitation...and that invitation could have been jeopardized if the Ministry had heard about the attempted escape before allowing Miller to have POW's.

However, they had not and Hauptmann Reigels arrived at Stalag 13 before the morning roll call. He told the Kommandant of the Major's request and asked if he could speak to the assembled prisoners after the roll call. Klink, being ever so helpful, pointed out that he was aware that Colonel Hogan played drums, and that there were other prisoners who could play instruments and sing. He then attempted to volunteer his services on the violin which was declined by Reigels.

As the prisoners lined up for roll call, Hogan and the heroes saw the Propaganda Ministry captain standing behind Klink. Having not listened in with the coffee pot, they were not aware of why Reigels was there but were sure something was up.

Shultz finished counting and turned to the Kommandant.

"Repoooooooort!"

Shultz saluted. "Jawohl! All prisoners present and accounted for!"

"Good." Klink looked at the prisoners. "Prisoners, I would like to introduce you to Hauptmann Horst Reigels of the Propaganda Ministry. Hauptmann Reigels is here today to ask a request of you. I would suggest that you consider the request carefully."

"Careful not to agree to it!" Newkirk shouted out. The assembled prisoners hollered their agreement.

"Quiet!" Klink shouted. "Any prisoner who obliges the request will receive _special_ privileges."

"Like what?" Hogan asked.

"Those prisoners that oblige will, for their entire barracks, receive an extra ration of white bread, with butter _and_ extra wood for their barrack's stove."

"How generous," Hogan said.

Klink ignored the Colonel's remark and turned to Hauptmann Reigels, giving a short nod. He then stepped back to let the Ministry official speak.

Reigels looked at the assembled POW's. "Prisoners. Four days ago the Propaganda Ministry, with help from the Gestapo, captured a very important Allied officer." Reigels paused. "Major Glenn Miller."

The prisoners were suddenly a buzz. _Miller?__ Did he say Glenn Miller? The band leader?? No way... _Hogan and his men all exchanged glances. Something was _definitely_ up.

Reigels smiled like a cat that just ate a canary. "At this time Major Miller is taking part in the preparations for a very important broadcast and he needs some help. I'm here today with a request from the Major for a few musicians, specifically, a piano player, a drummer and a bass player."

The gathered prisoners all voiced their rejection of the request, Hogan and the heroes looked at each other again. "I think we just found a legitimate way to get to Düsseldorf," the Colonel said. He suddenly stepped forward. "I don't believe you've really captured Glenn Miller," he spoke up to Reigels.

"Hogan, you're out of line!" Klink warned.

Reigels raised a hand, indicating it was okay for the prisoner to speak. "You don't?" Reigels said to Hogan. "Colonel, he was held right here in this camp until yesterday. Don't tell me you weren't the least bit curious as to why you and the rest of the prisoners here were confined to barracks every time we moved him around."

"Sure I was curious. But that doesn't prove you have the real Glenn Miller. None of us saw him and I doubt you even know what he looks like it."

"Everybody in the world knows what Glenn Miller looks like," Reigels said. "He is tall, with dark hair, dark eyes, glasses and he speaks with a very rich baritone voice, perfect for radio." Reigels chuckled. "Colonel, Kommandant Klink tells me that you play drums. Perhaps you would like to see for yourself that we indeed have captured Major Miller and he has been very cooperative."

"Anybody can be cooperative if you threaten them enough," Hogan countered.

"The Propaganda Ministry does not need threats to achieve its objectives. Major Miller has merely seen that the Allied cause he has supported for so long is in vain. He knows, as will everyone else soon enough, that the Third Reich will be victorious."

"I still don't believe you. I don't believe you've got Miller and I surely don't believe he's being willingly cooperative." Hogan paused. "But I'll go..."

"Colonel, no! You can't--"

Hogan held a hand up. "I have to find out for sure if they really have Major Miller. But you can rest assured that if they do, they're going to be very sorry."

Reigels smirked. "I don't think so, Colonel. But on behalf of Major Miller I thank you for the volunteering of your services. Now..." Reigels looked at the rest of the prisoners. "We need a bass player..."

Hogan turned his head to look back at Kinch. The Sergeant nodded and stepped forward.

Reigels smiled. "Wonderful. Anybody play piano?"

Hogan turned his head slightly the other way, toward LeBeau. The Frenchman stepped forward, looking like he didn't like the idea but like Colonel Hogan wanted to see if it was really Glenn Miller the Propaganda Ministry had.

"Very good."

"Don't get too excited," Hogan said. "You don't know if any of us can play yet. Maybe we all just want some more white bread...."

Reigels paused. "I would think that Major Miller would be extremely disappointed if his own comrades would volunteer to assist him and then turn out to be lying." Reigels started to turn and then stopped, and looked back at Hogan. "Not to mention the Propaganda Ministry would also be _very_ disappointed..." Reigels kept his gaze on Hogan for a moment longer and turned around and nodded to Klink, indicating he was finished.

Klink nodded and turned to Shultz. "Shultz, after you dismiss the prisoners bring Colonel Hogan, Corporal LeBeau and Sergeant Kinchloe to my office."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" Shultz saluted and turned to the prisoners to dismiss them.

Hogan turned to Newkirk. "After we leave, get word to the Underground in Düsseldorf and let them know we're joining the party."

"Right, sir."


	16. The New Players

**Düsseldorf Radio Station**

**Düsseldorf****, ****Germany******

**November 1944**

**Day 5**

At the same time Reigels was gathering more players from Stalag 13, Major Miller was preparing for another day of rehearsal with the young German musicians. Not that he had much to prepare with, other than to stand by himself in the studio with a cigarette waiting for them to arrive. He was beginning to find the "preferential treatment" of being locked up by himself to be a bore. When the kids did arrive, he watched them as they came into the studio.

"Guten Morgen, Herr Miller," they said as they came in and walked to the bandstand.  He nodded to them. "Morning..." Roderick, one of the trombone players, caught his eye. The boy was carrying his instrument in one hand and the instrument case in the other. Miller was pretty sure the boy didn't have a case the day before, and would have assumed he had just left it at the hotel the day before...but why was he carrying the instrument outside of the case now?

The studio door was closed and locked and Roderick placed his instrument on his chair, but continued to hold the case in his other hand. He looked at Ahren, who nodded and the two boys approached the Major.

"Herr Miller," Ahren said. "Roderick made a request on your behalf yesterday..." He looked at Roderick, who held the trombone case out to the Major.

Miller was surprised at this. He placed his cigarette in the ash tray on top of the piano and accepted the case. He then turned to a nearby chair, placing the case down to open it. What he found inside was a shiny, almost brand new looking trombone. He looked at the boys in question. "How did you boys get this?"

Ahren smiled. "Roderick told them that he was not sure if his instrument was going to suffice by the time of the broadcast. So he asked for a new one, in case his should fail. Truthfully, Roderick's trombone is fine, but he said seeing you stand here before us it seemed like something was missing."

Miller chuckled. He looked at Roderick. "Danke."

"Bitte." Roderick's grin was from ear to ear.

Miller removed the two separated parts of the instrument from the case and started to put it together. _Roderick told them..._ Miller looked at Ahren. "You said Roderick told _them_. Told who?"

"Hauptmann Reigels from the Propaganda Ministry. He came and saw each of us after we left here yesterday."

Roderick tapped Ahren on the arm, wanting to know what was being said, since Miller had said his name. Ahren quickly explained. Roderick then looked at Miller and nodded. "Ja, wir wurden gefragt."

"We were all questioned," Ahren said. He turned and looked over at Hans and waved a finger for the trumpet player to approach.

"Questioned?" Miller said.

Ahren looked at Hans. "You were questioned by Reigels yesterday, ja?"

Hans nodded. "The Gestapo Major too."

"What did they want to know?" Miller asked.

"They wanted to know what we did, and what was said," Ahren explained.

Hans concurred. "They want to make sure we are staying on task...and that there has not been any discussion of anti-Nazi views."

Miller rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm surprised they don't just sit right in that control room and watch us all day," he griped.

Ahren and Hans both chuckled. "The Nazis do not like swing music, remember?" Ahren said.

"Oh yes, I forgot about that."

The boys smiled and Miller checked the slide on the trombone.

"Did they not question you?" Hans asked.

"Uh..." _No, I was too busy trying to escape. _"No, they didn't. Although more then likely they don't care what my answers to their questions would be. I think they're looking to see which of you boys is going to say one thing and which of you is going to say something different." Miller paused. "Especially you two. You're the only ones who can speak English and can communicate directly with me."

Hans and Ahren looked at each other and Hans nodded. "He is right you know."

"I did not say anything to Hochstetter or Reigels. None of us did."

"I know, but..." Hans looked at the Major, "it might be best we say as little as possible to one another. One of the others might say something that sounds innocent at the time, one of us might deny the wrong thing and we'll be under much scrutiny."

Miller nodded. "As far as the Gestapo and the Propaganda Ministry is concerned, all we discuss here is music."

Hans and Ahren nodded. "Ja.."

The studio door suddenly clicked unlocked and Anna entered with an attaché case. The three German boys and Miller looked over at her and then Hans and Ahren dispersed toward the band stand. Roderick reached for the trombone Miller held and gave it a gentle tug, getting the Major's attention. Roderick shook his head slightly and Miller got the impression that perhaps he himself wasn't supposed to be "caught" with the instrument. He let go of the trombone and nodded to Roderick, who stepped back to the band stand.

Miller then approached Anna. Fraulein Gebhart smiled at the Major. "Good morning, Herr Major," she said.

"Morning," Miller said plainly.

"We found the musicians you requested and arrangements for you." Anna presented Miller with the case. Miller hesitated taking it, but then did and opened it to inspect the song sheets. The case was full of titles and he looked at a handful of them, recognizing all of them. More than half the arrangements were tunes his band had done. A few were Benny Goodman songs, there were Duke Ellington and Count Basie songs, but one thing all the songs had in common was that they were all fast dance tunes. _In the Mood, Running Wild, American Patrol, Bugle Call Rag, Sun Valley Jump, Boomshot, King Porter Stomp, Sing, Sing, Sing, Take the 'A' Train, Jumpin' at the Woodside, Swingtime in the Rockies, One o'clock Jump...._

Miller wondered if this was a fluke, if the Propaganda Ministry deliberately picked these "hot" arrangements. He wasn't even sure why he found it peculiar, only that he did.

"We realize that not all of the arrangements can be used," Anna said, "however, are they satisfactory?"

Miller paused to look at another batch of songs....more of the same, fast numbers. _Cherokee, Skyliner, The Anvil Chorus, I Found a New Baby. _Miller nodded. "Yes, they're fine." Actually, half the songs he wouldn't have been able to use because the arrangements were more complicated than what he had for a band. And even if he did try to use the songs, it would take the young musicians weeks of rehearsal just to learn the tunes. But the Propaganda Ministry didn't need to know that.

"Good," Anna said with a smile. "Hauptmann Reigels will be arriving shortly with the new players." She turned and left the studio.

Miller watched her go and then turned back to the kids as Hans, Ahren and a couple of the other boys surrounded him, curious about the song sheets. Miller handed the song sheets to them and put the attaché case down on a chair. He turned to the piano, picked up his cigarette from the ash tray and tapped the ashes off before resuming smoking. He watched as the boys poured over the arrangements. Why was it the Ministry's selection of 'hot' arrangements bothered him? It could be just a coincidence, but he figured the Ministry would give him a stack of his own band's arrangements, everything from_ Moonlight Serenade_ to _Jeep Jockey Jump_, seeing as they seemed so proud of his capture. Although most of the songs in the stack were ones that his band, both civilian and military had either done originally or covered, the one song he noted that was missing was his signature theme: _Moonlight Serenade_. If the Propaganda Ministry really knew everything about the broadcasts and about him, they would know that he began and ended nearly every broadcast with that tune. Of course, not seeing the sheet music for the song didn't bother him necessarily, it was just as well the Germans didn't go waving that around to him, but they had to know the significance of that song...and had to have left it out for a reason. 

And the only reason he could think of was that the song was too slow, in comparison to the other tunes in the pile of arrangements. The arrangements that had been giving to him were a powerhouse collection and he just couldn't help but wonder if the Germans realized it was a powerhouse collection.

Miller looked at his cigarette and thought of this for a moment. Would they realize it? Just because the music was banned didn't mean somebody in the Third Reich wasn't paying attention, taking notes and making sure to come up with ways to keep the American influence at bay within the country, by making it all look bad.

_There is somebody in the Third Reich,_ he answered his own thought. _The Propaganda Ministry..._

And now, after all this time of saying that Jazz and Swing music was 'bad' and was the 'art of the subhuman', the Propaganda Ministry was looking to use it to connect to the youth of Germany and show them that National Socialism wasn't all that bad and terrible? No...something didn't seem right about that. He looked at the kids again. These kids were arrested and placed in camps or in the Hitler Youth as punishment for listening to swing music. The Nazi's did not like swing music. Period. The Propaganda Ministry controlled what works of the creative arts were shown to the public and only those things that coincided with the Nazi view were allowed and nothing else.

And that meant no swing music. So why go back on a decade's worth of suppression and punishment and say _Hey kids, National Socialism is great and wonderful and here's a great Glenn Miller hit to prove it!? _

Major Miller coughed on that thought. Either the Propaganda Ministry was losing control of its control on the people or they had some other reason for all of this. Either way, Miller didn't really care because he had decided that come the day of the broadcast, the Propaganda Ministry wasn't going to get any swing music from him or the band.

"Herr Miller?"

Miller looked up at Ahren. The boy smiled and Miller realized they had been trying to talk to him and obviously he hadn't been paying attention. "Oh, sorry..."

The boys then told him that several of the songs in the stack of arrangements they had performed in their own band. "Oh yeah? Which ones...?"

Meanwhile, in the lobby of the radio station, Anna had greeted Reigels as he returned with the three prisoners from Stalag 13 along with their guard. They were all then joined by Major Hochstetter, who marched into the radio station as if he was about to conduct a raid.

"Fraulein Gebhart, Hauptmann Reigels, I thought you should know that Major Miller attempted to escape from the hotel last night..."

"Escape?!" Anna repeated.

"Ja, but my men caught him very quickly. He did not get far from the hotel." Hochstetter hesitated, not liking the idea of admitting that one of his men had been hoodwinked. "He assaulted one of my men and took his uniform."

Reigels and Anna looked at each other. "This will have to be addressed..." Reigels said.

"Perhaps I should introduce the Major to the consequences of attempting to escape from the Gestapo," Hochstetter suggested.

Hogan had to fight to keep his mouth shut.

"No," Anna said, looking at Hochstetter. "We will remind the Major that any further attempts to escape would not be in his best interest." She looked at Reigels, who nodded. He would pass along the message. Reigels then nodded to Shultz and the prisoners for them to follow him. A Gestapo guard accompanied them toward the studio.

Hochstetter watched them go and he came up beside Anna. "I warned you about the American. A night in the Gestapo prison would be most effective."

"Your suggestion is noted, Herr Major. The issue will be addressed. However...I hope the Gestapo is evaluating its guarding methods to ensure that this does not happen again."

Hochstetter puffed up, taking offense. "Are you suggesting that inadequate procedures were in place on behalf of the Gestapo in the guarding of this prisoner?"

"I'm suggesting that if Glenn Miller was able to fool one of your Gestapo guards, either you underestimate the American or your guard was a dumpkof. However, let me make it clear that the Propaganda Ministry frowns on any strong arm tactics in the guarding of Major Miller. You and your men are only to guard him. When the Propaganda Ministry decides at such time that the Major needs any further persuasion, persuasion of the kind that only the Gestapo can provide, we will let you know. Do I make myself clear, Major?"

Hochstetter conceded grudgingly. "Ja.."

"Very well. Good day, Major." Anna turned and disappeared down a hall way of the radio station. Hochstetter marched back out of the building.

Back in the studio the boys and Miller stopped and looked when the studio door opened and a Gestapo guard led the way, followed by Hauptmann Reigels and then three Allied POW's with a portly Luftwaffe guard in tow. Miller immediately recognized Colonel Hogan and Sergeant Shultz, but he looked at all of the prisoners, trying to appear like he had never seen any of them before. But he couldn't believe his luck! He stepped away from the boys and met Hauptmann Reigels in the middle of the studio.

Reigels smiled and turned to Colonel Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, I give you Major Glenn Miller." Reigels chuckled. "Do you believe me now?"

Hogan looked at Miller and seemed disappointed. "I don't want to, but it looks like I have no choice..."

Reigels turned back to Miller. "Major Miller, this is Colonel Robert Hogan, senior POW officer of Stalag 13 and Sergeant James Kinchloe and Corporal Louis LeBeau, also of Stalag 13. They will be your drummer, bass player and piano player, respectively."

"Fine."

Reigels looked back at Hogan, Kinch and LeBeau. "Well gentlemen, the Propaganda Ministry thanks you for the volunteering of your services." He gave a smug smile and then turned to Miller again. "And Major...I just heard about your little endeavor last night. I hope this will not become a habit."

Hogan watched Major Miller's expression, knowing that Miller was accepting the responsibility for the escape, leaving no suggestion that there had been any outside help. "Can't blame me for trying, Captain," Miller said cordially, but Hogan saw the light of defiance in the Major's brown eyes.

Reigels gave a low chuckle. "Perhaps not. But unfortunately such action must be punished."

Miller watched Reigels, waiting to see what the verdict would be. But when the Ministry Captain's eyes looked towards the band, the Major's blood ran cold.

Hogan, Kinch and LeBeau were exchanging concerned glances as well.

Reigels made eye contact with Erik. "Sie," he said. "_Step over here."_

Erik hesitated and the other band members looked at him. _What had he done?  _Erik took a trembling step and approached the Ministry Captain and Major Miller. Miller looked at Reigels as the Captain gestured to the Gestapo guard to step forward.

"Now wait just a minute," Miller said. "You're not going to punish Erik for something that _I_ did?"

"The entire band, along with yourself, will have to be punished for your escape attempt."

"The entire band?!" Miller pointed to himself. "_I'm _the one that tried to escape, not them. They have nothing to do with it."

"Ah, but they do." Reigels looked at Erik and nodded his head towards the Gestapo guard. The guard took one step forward to escort Erik out but before Erik could step forward, Miller put a hand on the boy's shoulder and gently pushed the young trumpet player back and behind him. The Major's brown eyes were especially dark as they looked at Reigels. Erik peered around the Major, looking back and forth between Miller and the Ministry Captain

"_I_ tried to escape," Miller said, his baritone voice even but tinged with ire. "_I'm_ the one that will take the punishment. You leave these kids out of it."

Reigels seemed to be holding back a smile. "The thought of the band being punished for your misdeeds bothers you, Herr Major?"

Miller stared at Reigels for a long moment. There was a look of amusement in the Ministry Captain's eyes and Miller realized he'd been both baited…and punished. Now, consequences of his future actions would not be felt by him alone. The band would be made to suffer too, as if they weren't suffering enough. He dropped his gaze from Reigels and sighed. "I find it extremely unfair, Captain."

Reigels nodded. "I figured you would." He paused, as if to think over something. "Let us consider what happened last night to be a…misunderstanding. And we will have no further misunderstandings will we, Major?"

Miller shook his head. "No."

Reigels smiled. "Very good."  He stepped back, taking his leave. The Gestapo guard and Shultz followed out of the studio and the door clicked shut and was locked.

LeBeau turned to the door. "Dirty Boche," he spat.

Miller turned to Erik and patted him on the shoulder to let him know everything was okay. The young boy's eyes were full of question and he spoke in a hurried and startled German. "_What did they want? What were they going to do to me…?" _ Ahren stepped up from the band stand and began to explain what had happened to Erik, while walking the trumpet player back toward the band. Miller sighed and turned back to Hogan, Kinch and LeBeau.

"Before you say too much, be aware that two of the boys over there can speak English."

Hogan nodded. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

Miller made a face but nodded. "I'm fine….I'd like to slap that Captain though…"

Hogan gave a small smile. "I could tell." He then cleared his throat, glanced at the band and then back to his men and the Major. "Let's make this look normal, eh?"

LeBeau stepped up and put a hand out to Miller. "We didn't believe the German's had captured you," he said, speaking normally and making things appear casual. "However, despite the circumstances, it is still an honor to meet you."

"And to see that you're okay," Kinch added.

Miller nodded. "Thank you," he said, shaking hands with LeBeau and then with Kinch. "I just hope you understand that despite whatever the Propaganda Ministry may have told you, I'm not doing any of this willingly."

"We know," Hogan said. He then looked toward the kids, who were all sitting quietly now. "That the band, Major?"

Miller turned. "That's the band. At least...that's what they gave me. I asked to have POW's originally but they wouldn't do it."

"So they give you kids?"

"Well, these kids _can_ play, Colonel."

Hogan studied the kids and each instrument they held. "Aren't you missing some players?"

Miller nodded. "Theoretically I'm missing about ten players. Obviously the Propaganda Ministry doesn't know what's needed for a decent swing orchestra and I'm not about to help them figure it out, but in order to make the band somewhat presentable I needed more of a rhythm section, so again I demanded POW's. For...a lot of reasons."

Hogan smiled. _You're starting to think like an Underground operative, Major... _ "Do you have any vocalists?"

Miller shook his head, not only answering the question but rejecting the suggestion. "No."

"Do you think they'll consider one more request?" Hogan asked. "There are a couple more fellas back at Stalag 13 who would make very good vocalists."

Miller looked at the Colonel for a moment, just about to repeat his statement of _not_ wanting to help the Ministry to make the band too good when he realized what Hogan was really asking. "Oh...well I can certainly try, Colonel."

Hogan grinned. "Okay. In the meantime, shall we play some music? The Krauts might get suspicious if it's too quiet in here."

Miller smiled. "You play drums, Colonel?"

"Do I play drums? Watch..." Hogan walked to the drum kit and sat down at it. He picked up the sticks and began to beat out a kicking drum solo.

The kids all watched him and bobbed their heads to the beat, soon forgetting Reigels visit. LeBeau then went over to the piano and joined in. Hogan eased off the solo and kept a beat, letting LeBeau take front and center on the piano. Kinch, meanwhile, found the upright bass and stood it up, plunking out a bass line with LeBeau's piano. After a few riffs of ad-libbed playing, LeBeau and Kinch started playing "Boogie Woogie."

The kids recognized the tune. Hans stood up with his trumpet and began to play along with the song. He was then joined by Erik, all three trombone players and one of the sax players, Adler. The trombones played along with LeBeau, keeping the rhythm, while the sax player held the melody and the trumpets added their "pops" in time with the music. The remaining sax players and clarinet player watched and listened, enjoying what they were hearing.

Miller liked what he heard too and was tapping his foot. Roderick paused in playing and held the other trombone out to the Major. Miller took it and joined in the jam while continuing to offer a lead, and after the first piano solo, the remaining players got into the song. Keeping it fairly simple, the players repeated the first refrain up to the piano solo again.

The players went through the refrain once more but instead of the piano solo, Miller cued Ahren for the trombone solo, setting them up to bring the song to it's natural conclusion. At the end of the solo, the band played the last few notes and the song was brought to a finish.

Hogan smiled. "Well, Major?"

"Yes, Colonel," Miller said and chuckled. "You certainly play drums. I feel like we're in a 20th Century Fox musical."

The heroes laughed.

"You know," Hogan said, "for not having a complete band and only having two days you've got these kids sounding pretty good."

"Actually they all played together before," Miller explained.

"In the same band?"

"In the same band. And they were all arrested at the same time." Miller looked at the band members who were all watching the conversation between him and Colonel Hogan. That heavy feeling of unfairness and selfishness was weighing on his shoulders with the echo of Reigels threat. _These kids... innocents..._

Hogan saw the troubled look on the Major's face but kept the observation to himself. He stood up from the drum kit and approached the Major. "When were they arrested?"

"Couple of months ago."

Hogan paused in thought. "Sounds like they've been planning this for awhile..."

Miller nodded. He turned and placed the trombone he held down on a near by chair. Turning back to the band he said, "Colonel, I want you to meet Hans and Ahren. They've been my translators..."

Hogan, LeBeau and Kinch were introduced to the kids and as the young Germans told a little of themselves, and asked questions of the Allied prisoners, Hogan began to see why Reigels threat had had an impact. _This isn't the time to be getting sentimental, Major..._ Hogan thought. After the introductions, Miller decided to try the band with one of the arrangements the Ministry provided. Seeing as all the kids knew _Cherokee_ he went with that one. Hogan walked over to Miller as the Major was removing the song sheets from the attaché case. Miller looked at Hogan but before the Colonel could say anything, the studio door opened and Reigels and Anna came in along with another man dressed in a Ministry uniform and carrying a camera.

"Terrific," Hogan muttered, seeing the photographer.

Miller saw this too and shook his head at Anna. "You're not taking my picture," he said.

The photographer raised the camera figuring to get a shot of both Miller and Hogan, off guard. Both of the Americans saw this and reacted in time, Hogan turning around and Miller holding up the song sheet he had in hand, blocking his face from camera's view. The photographer's flash bulb popped and the picture was spoiled.

The photographer muttered something in German and proceeded to remove the spent flash bulb. Miller peeked over the song sheet at Anna.  "I said no."

"Major, a photograph to the Allies in London would show you are well and are being treated well here," Anna said.

"They're just going to have to be left to wonder. You're not taking my picture."

A new flash bulb was placed in the camera and the photographer looked to be waiting for another opportunity. Hogan kept his back facing the photographer, while Miller kept the song sheet up concealing most of his face. The photographer decided to try to get a shot of the band and he stepped around the backside of Reigels and Anna. He raised the camera at the band and Miller took a step toward him, holding the song sheet out in front of the lens just as the flash bulb popped again.

The photographer lowered his camera and glared at the Major. Miller looked at Anna. "You can keep trying. But as long he keeps trying to snap pictures I'm not working with the band. We can play cat and mouse all day."

Anna sighed and looked at Miller, not amused. However, having him work with the band was more important than getting pictures. For now. She looked at the photographer, tilting her head toward the door. "Das macht nichts." _Never mind._

The photographer gave a curt nod and headed for the door. Once he was gone, Hogan turned back around and Miller let the song sheet down from his face.

"You understand Herr Major," Anna said, "that we have an obligation to show to the Allies that you are not being mistreated here."

Miller snorted.

"Nice try, Anna," Hogan said. "You snap a photograph of him, or any of us here, it'll be labeled traitor and every one of us knows that."

Anna looked at Hogan with some amusement but offered no response to his declaration. She then looked at Major Miller.  "Do you mind if we stay and listen, Herr Major?"

Miller shrugged. He'd rather they not but he knew they'd stay anyway. He turned to Hogan, handing him sheet music. "Cherokee," he said.

Hogan nodded. He returned to the drum kit while Miller distributed the appropriate sheet music to all of the players. "This is Cherokee," he told them.  He handed the last sheets to Kinch and LeBeau and returned to the front of the band stand. He eyed the trombone on the chair and remembered Roderick not wanting him to be caught with it in hand. He made a face in disappointment and left the instrument where it was and turned to face the band.

"Okay...let's try it from the top." Miller raised his hands, counted off and the band began to play. The Major glanced over to the Ministry officials and saw that Reigels didn't seem to know what to make of the 'wah-wah' sound that the trumpets made. In fact the whole song seemed to bother Reigels. Miller took some pleasure in the sight.

When the song finished Miller looked at Reigels and Anna for reaction. Reigels was straight faced but seemed to find the performance satisfactory. Anna smiled and stepped towards Miller.

"Herr Major, I must commend you on how well you have this band sounding considering the short time you have had to prepare."

Normally Miller would praise his musicians, and in this case he had extraordinary musicians, but he wasn't in the frame of mind to show too much appreciation or agreement with the Propaganda Ministry. He merely gave a curt nod and said, "Thank you."

"We will have a very good broadcast," Anna said, turning to Reigels. "Don't you think so Herr Reigels?"

"Ja, the broadcast will be most effective...thanks to Herr Miller."

Miller glanced over at Reigels. _Wait 'til he finds out what I'm really going to have this band play..._ He looked back at Anna.

"That is," she continued, "if you are still with us come the day of the broadcast."

"More than likely I'll be here," Miller replied. "Unless a better offer comes along."

Anna gave a spiteful laugh. "I'm afraid there is no better offer for you, Major. Unless, suffering consequences for attempting to escape appeal to you? Perhaps I should take the Gestapo off the short leash that we have them on...?"

As Anna spoke, Colonel Hogan stood up unobtrusively from the drum kit and walked over to the Major, to stand at his left shoulder and offer quiet moral support. "You know, I was already read the riot act by your buddy over there," Miller said. "But no, it doesn't particularly appeal to me."

Anna nodded. "I figured it would not. So we have an understanding?"

"Perfectly."

"Good." Anna gestured with her hand toward the band. "Please, Herr Major, continue. Herr Reigels and I would like to watch you work with the band." Anna turned to Reigels and they walked to the control room. Miller turned to Hogan.

"I think I'm still going to hold out for that better offer," the Major said quietly.

Hogan snorted softly and nodded.


	17. The New Players cont'd

**Düsseldorf Radio Station**

**Düsseldorf****, ****Germany******

**November 1944**

**Day 5**

Reigels and Anna stayed in the control room for nearly an hour, watching Miller work with the band. Although Miller tried his best to ignore their presence, he cast the occasional furtive glance over his shoulder. Hogan noted that the Major seemed to chafe at the scrutinizing gaze of Reigels and Anna. What the Major couldn't see, but Hogan could from the drum set, was as the band played through such songs as _In the Mood_ and _Sun Valley Jump_ Reigels appeared to chafe at the sound. Hogan found that to be satisfying.

Toward the end of that hour, Miller called for a break. The two members of the Propaganda Ministry came out of the control room and Miller was ready to explain that he wasn't about to run the band into the ground with unrelenting rehearsal. But neither Reigels nor Anna seemed bothered by the break. In fact they seemed to find it appropriate.

"It is close to _Mittagessen_," Anna said. "I'm sure you and the band are hungry?"

Miller glanced at the band. "They've worked very hard this morning. I think they deserve something."

Anna nodded. "Of course."

The door to the studio was unlocked and one of the Gestapo guards came in. He stopped before Reigels and saluted the Ministry Captain. "Herr Hauptmann, die Mittagessenmahlzeiten sind hier." _Herr Hauptmann, the lunch meals have arrived. _

"Sehr gut," Reigels replied. "Danke."

The guard nodded and clicked his heels, saluting again. He turned and left the studio.

Reigels turned to Miller. "The Düsseldorf Hotel is providing the _mittagessen_."

Miller nodded. Reigels and Anna turned and walked to the studio's doors. When they were gone, Miller turned to face the bandstand.

"_Mittagessen_ is lunch," Ahren offered.

Miller smiled. "I figured as much. Thank you."

A worthwhile lunch was served consisting of _Maultaschen_ (Swabian-style ravioli filled with meat, vegetables and seasoning) _Schlachplatte_(platter of various sausages and cold meats) and _Schillerlocke_ (pastry cornet with vanilla cream filling). However, it would not be enjoyed quietly. After the kids, the heroes and Miller settled themselves on the steps on the bandstand risers, Reigels took the opportunity to address everyone, basically going on about the great and glorious Third Reich and how the future of the Reich was in the hands of the young people.

Although his audience was quiet, nobody was really listening to the Ministry Captain. And he knew it by the time he got to the end of his speech. Embarrassed, and annoyed, Reigels was hardly acknowledged when he and Anna turned to leave. Everyone just continued on eating. 

After a moment, Hogan looked at Kinch, LeBeau and Miller. "Were any of you paying attention to what Reigels was saying?"

The three shook their heads. "I think he was saying something about the youth and the future of the Reich," Kinch said. "And...something."

"In other words, nothing important," Hogan said.

"Right."

All four chuckled and grinned. Hans and Ahren had heard what the American Colonel had said and glanced at one another, sharing a smile too.

With Reigels and Anna gone, the kids began to talk amongst themselves. The heroes and Miller did the same.

"I don't know what it is about Germans," LeBeau said. "They certainly like to do a lot of talking."

"There's an old saying," Miller said, "it's better to keep your mouth shut and appear the fool, than to open it and remove all doubt."

"Obviously that's not a German proverb," Hogan said.

"Obviously not," LeBeau said, "especially since Reigels opens his mouth all the time."

Miller placed his empty plate down beside him. "Well, they may talk a lot but at least this time I got a decent meal," he said.

LeBeau looked at him. "Don't tell me you enjoyed _this?_" He held his still half full plate up.

"As a matter of fact, I did."

"Ugh," the Frenchman rolled his eyes. "If we were all back at Stalag 13, I would prepare for you a meal ten times better than this!"

"Hey," Kinch said, "after the bland stuff he got at Stalag 13, anything's going to taste better to him."

"All German food is bland. French cuisine, however, _that_ is un plaisir pour la palette." LeBeau smiled. _A pleasure for the pallet.___

"Well when the war's over," Hogan said, "we'll have a party in Paris, we'll invite the Major and LeBeau can prepare a feast."

"Pour la victoire!"  _For the victory!_

"I'm all for that," Miller said.

"We all will be," Kinch said.

"Oui," LeBeau added.

Hogan's plate was now empty and he looked at the Major. "Grab your plate, Major..." he said quietly and stood up. Miller followed Hogan to the cart the lunches had been brought in on. They placed their empty plates in the dish wash tub.

"I'm sorry about last night," Hogan said quietly, out of ear shot of the band.

"Wasn't your fault, Colonel. Just wasn't meant to work."

"It _should_ have worked...if it hadn't been ten minutes from the changing of the guard." Hogan paused. "Crazy as this may sound though...I'd like to try to spring you again, tonight."

Miller hesitated. Reigels' threat of the band suffering the consequences tugged at him. He looked at Hogan, taking in a deep breath. "I don't know, Colonel..."

Hogan paused. "What did Hochstetter do about last night?"

"Gave me hell. Took my kit. What he'd really like to do is show me his Gestapo jail."

Hogan nodded. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"That's not what bothers me though. You try this escape attempt tonight, and it works, those kids may end up paying a high price. Heck, you try this escape attempt tonight, and it _doesn't_ work, they won't be firing the rifle in the air. They'll be firing it at me....and anybody who looks to be trying to help me."

"You seemed to accept that risk a couple of days ago."

"And I still do." Miller looked directly at Hogan. "But what happens if this thing goes awry again, and they find you this time? I doubt the Propaganda Ministry will be keeping you here in town, Colonel. They'll truck you back and forth from Stalag 13. So how do you explain what the senior POW officer is doing in Düsseldorf at odd hours of the night?"

"That's the risk I have to take. That's the risk I take every day."

"You may take the risk, Colonel, but can you afford the gamble?"

"Don't you want to get back to England?"

"Of course I want to get back to England. But I don't want to see the entire Allied underground network smashed to pieces on _my_ account, not at this point of the war. I'm just a bandleader, I'm not Eisenhower."

"No, but Eisenhower would probably send an entire battalion in to get you back. And I'm no different." Hogan paused a moment to look around the studio, making sure he and the Major hadn't attracted an audience. He saw LeBeau and Kinch were talking to the kids, keeping them distracted. He looked at Miller again. "You took your own risk by taking all the responsibility for the escape attempt last night. The Underground is going to be looking to return the favor, by getting you out of here successfully. You let me worry about how much risk I and the Underground should take. You just worry what about you're going to do once you get back to England." Hogan paused. "As for those kids…" Hogan let it hang there.

"Isn't there _anything_ you can do?"

Hogan sighed. "I…I don't know. My plans and contingencies are only for getting you out of here."

Miller gave a critical look to Hogan. "You haven't even thought of them have you?"

"Major, I can't save everybody."

"I'm not saying you have to, but don't you think you owe them something?"

Hogan's look was pointed. "You're concerned about the risk the Underground and myself are taking to get you back to England yet somehow you expect us to pull a miracle and get you _and_ nine kids out of here too?"

Miller raised a hand, indicating he was backing off. "All right, all right…" he said. He knew the idea of the kids making the escape with him would be asking too much. He only hoped the risk the Underground was taking wasn't asking too much either.

Hogan paused. "I'm sorry," he said. "I have my orders."

Miller nodded and let out a heavy sigh before changing the subject. "Am I going to have to switch uniforms again tonight?"

"No," Hogan said. "But I am."

Miller stared at the Colonel. Hogan gave a small smile and patted Miller on the shoulder before walking with the Major back to where LeBeau and Kinch were keeping the kids pretty well entertained in conversation.

"..._besides, we sound better than Charlie and his Orchestra_," Avril was saying.

"_Howling dogs sound better than Charlie and his Orchestra_," Adler said.

"_Are you saying we sound like howling dogs_?"

The kids chuckled and Adler smiled. "_Nein. But Charlie and his Orchestra are a sham. Ja, they're pretty good musicians but Goebbels put that band together. They are not a true swing band. Besides that, Charlie hardly ever speaks German_..."

"_That's true, and the things he says in English are ridiculous_," Hans added.

Ahren looked at the Major. "Herr Miller, have you ever heard of Charlie and his Orchestra?"

"Isn't that the band Goebbels put together?"

"Ja."

"I've heard of it but have never heard the band."

"You don't want to," Hans said.

Miller chuckled, but as the boys continued to chatter he suddenly wondered...if Goebbels already had a swing band, what was this outfit for?


	18. The Second Attempt

**Düsseldorf Hotel  
****Düsseldorf****, ****Germany  
****November 1944  
****Day 5**

Hogan returned to Düsseldorf later that night, this time bringing Newkirk with him, and they met with Fritz and his men in the backroom of the bakery. Hogan and Newkirk had brought Gestapo uniforms with them for this plan and they made a quick change upon arrival. They were to go into the hotel, acting as if they were there for other business, get Miller and get him out of the hotel either through the service stairs or the kitchen area. There was just one problem. Fritz's sentries were reporting that Hochstetter had added a few more guards, one on the service stairs doorway and one in the kitchen area. This posed a slight dilemma for the Colonel.

"Blimey," Newkirk said. "That means no matter what door we bring 'em out of, we're going to be questioned."

"The service stairs exit is still the best bet," Hogan said. "If there's only one guard there, we can just knock the goon out, hustle Miller out into the car and get the hell out of Dodge. Simple."

"Oh." Newkirk nodded. "As long as it's simple...."

Hogan snorted. "C'mon, let's go."

Frtiz dropped Hogan and Newkirk off a block away from the hotel and proceeded to drive the car to the hotel and park by the service stairs exit. He checked his watch. It was almost nine-thirty.

Hogan and Newkirk walked briskly, but not too quickly, to the hotel. They passed by Fritz's car and continued on to the front of the hotel. They weren't even to the front door yet when a Gestapo guard passed by them and pulled up to the curb just ahead of them. Hogan and Newkirk stopped and stepped back and turned slightly to avoid having whoever was stepping out of the car see them.

There was no mistaking Major Hochstetter as he exited the car. Oblivious to the two additional Gestapo men loitering on the sidewalk, he gestured to the two guards that had accompanied him and they marched into the lobby of the hotel.

Newkirk looked at Hogan and cringed. "What's _he_ doin' 'ere?"

Hogan didn't know, but he knew he didn't like it. "Let's just stay cool...remember we're here on other business..." He walked to the door, Newkirk following.

Hochstetter was well beyond the lobby when they came in. The guards in the lobby acknowledged them with salutes and nothing more. Hogan walked around non-chalantly, appearing to be examining the lobby and everything in it, with disdain.

Meanwhile, Hochstetter and his two guards had reached the sixth floor. Hochstetter lead the way down the hall way and the guard posted outside Miller's door came to attention. Hochstetter considered no courtesy and he immediately opened the door, barging into the room.

Major Miller was sitting at the writing desk doodling on the hotel's paper and looked up with a start. Hochstetter said not a word, allowing the pointing of the two guards rifles do the talking. Miller got the message and pushed the note paper aside and placed the pen down. He picked up his crush cap and stood up. Hochstetter stood aside and one of the guards turned to lead Miller out. Miller followed.

With a guard flanking either side of him, Miller was escorted down to the lobby. Newkirk saw the spectacle before Hogan and gently nudged the Colonel's arm. Hogan turned to look.

"Damn..."

"What do we do?" Newkirk asked. "Hochstetter will recognize us for sure if we approach now."

"I know... and we can't tail them either. He's more than likely taking Miller directly to Gestapo Headquarters--" Hogan stopped when someone coming into the hotel caught his eye. Newkirk turned to look too.

Hauptmann Reigels took a few steps into the lobby of the hotel and was met by Major Miller, the two guards and Major Hochstetter. The Ministry Captain and Gestapo Major looked at each other for a moment, both surprised to see the other, although Hogan noted that Hochstetter looked more startled than anything.

"Major Hochstetter.._What__ is the matter here?_?" Reigels asked.

"Uh..._the Major, we are taking him outside for air..._"__

Reigels looked at Major Miller. "You wish to step out for some air?" 

"No. I believe Major Hochstetter wishes to show me the sights of his Gestapo jail."

Reigels bristled and turned to Hochstetter, switching back to German. "_Major....I believe Fraulein Gebhart made it very clear that the Propaganda Ministry does not want to use strong arm tactics until it desired to do so._"

"_This man tried to escape! He must be punished! He must be shown that the Gestapo does not ignore something like this!_"__

"_The Gestapo will ignore it until such time the Ministry decides it should not be ignored._ _Major Miller has been warned that if he attempts to escape again there will be more serious consequences._"

"_Bah! Your words are weak, Kapitan. You must back it up with force. Where we have let his first attempt at escape go unpunished, he will only think he can try again. And then what will you allow for punishment when he tries again? As long as he has the will to resist, he will try to escape. You must crush the will to resist!_"

"_Major Hochstetter, I am fully aware of the methods and tactics of reducing a man's will to become submissive. However, if you were to be allowed to implore your methods of punishment on the American, it would not be in the best interest of Dr. Goebbel's plans for propaganda. A plan that, I remind you, you seemed very interested in just a few short months ago..._"

Hochstetter paused, clenching his teeth. "_That is true..._" he conceded, "_but I did not know I would have to be nice for this plan to work._"__

Reigels chuckled. "_It was never said that you had to be nice. But the Ministry does expect you to show some restraint. Now....you are holding the Major's pack, yes?_"

"Ja."

Reigels nodded. "_Good. I want you to return the pack to him, but you will remove any cigarettes from it first...._"

Hochstetter turned to one of the guards and gave the order. The guard saluted and left.

Reigels turned to Miller. "Major Miller, my apologies for Major Hochstetter." He turned and gestured with his hand to the stairs. "Please..."

Major Miller showed no acceptance of the apology or any appreciation for it. He merely gave Hochstetter a look that could have killed and a look to Reigels that could have seriously wounded. He then turned toward the stairs with Reigels walking with him.

Hochstetter scowled and marched out of the hotel, his guards following. Hogan and Newkirk remained where they were, watching as Reigels and Miller headed for the stairs.

Newkirk looked at Hogan. "Did you pick up any of what they were saying?"

Hogan nodded. "Enough not to like it."

"Same here."

Across the lobby, Reigels studied Major Miller for a moment as they walked to the stairs. "If you'll pardon the observation, Major," he said, "you're quite a brusque and indifferent individual."

Miller stopped two steps upon the stairs and turned to Reigels. "When you kidnap someone, hold them against their will, threaten their life and force them to do something they don't want to, you're not exactly going to get sunshine and lollipops."

Reigels tilted his head, conceding that that was true. "Ja..."

"And apologizing for Hochstetter doesn't win you any brownie points--"

"Brownie points?"

"Favor. With me. Especially since you've threatened me yourself."

"I will be completely honest with you, Major, the Propaganda Ministry is not interested in the use of strong arm tactics by the Gestapo in order to achieve our means. However, that does not mean we won't consider them if it becomes apparent that such methods would be effective."

"In other words, if I make you mad enough you'll take Hochstetter off the leash."

"Exactly."

Miller looked at Reigels for a moment, wondering if this conversation was really taking place. "Why are you here? I'm sure you didn't come here knowing you'd be sparing my hide from the Gestapo and then graciously reminding me that if I push things too far, I won't be so spared."

"No. Actually I came to speak with you about the broadcast."

Miller looked at his watch. It was nearly quarter to ten. "Now?"

"Well, Major, most of your day is spent rehearsing with the band and that is time I do not want to interrupt. I figured now would be satisfactory, as I have read that keeping late hours is not unusual for you."

The guard Hochstetter had sent off returned with the Major's pack. He walked up to the Reigels and presented it. Reigels took it and thanked the guard, sending him on his way. Reigels then offered the pack to Miller.

"Your pack, Herr Major."

Miller looked at the pack for moment and then took it but offered no appreciation. He then turned and headed up the stairs with Reigels following.

Hogan and Newkirk looked at each other. "No telling how long that Kraut will hang around," Newkirk said.

"Mmm.." Hogan growled. His brown eyes looked around the lobby of the hotel but his head didn't turn. "It's getting to the point where the only option left to get him out of here is going to be blowing the whole place apart." Hogan paused. "My luck can not be running _this_ bad..."

"What about when you, Kinch and Louie are at the radio station? Any chance there?"

Hogan shook his head. "We'd all be shot before we got out the door," he said. He slapped the riding crop he held against his hand and paused, thinking of the uniform he was wearing. Newkirk suddenly saw the Colonel's eyes spark to life. "Unless...the Gestapo came and escorted us out...."

Newkirk grinned and Hogan tucked the riding crop under his arm. "Everything seems to be under control here," Hogan said loudly. "Come Putzie!" They marched to the door of the hotel, saluting the guards as they left.


	19. A New Plan of Action

**Fritz's Bakery  
****Düsseldorf****, ****Germany  
****November 1944**

**Day 5**

Having struck out twice with trying to spring Major Miller from the hotel, Hogan nixed any further attempts at such a feat and instead decided to focus on the possibility of getting Miller out of the radio station before the broadcast. Back at Fritz's bakery, Hogan, Newkirk, Fritz and a few of Fritz's men were gathered around a table, a floor plan of the radio station spread out before them. In the span of an hour, a plan was laid out, logistics and time table was tentatively set and they would have forty-eight hours to pull it off.

"The broadcast is the day after tomorrow," Hogan was saying. "That's all the time you'll have for you and your men to get a car, Gestapo uniforms and to alert the safe houses along the escape route."

Fritz nodded. "It can be done, Colonel."

"All right. You'll also need something to disguise Miller in. Make you sure you get him out of that Army uniform or he'll be a sitting duck."

"Ja."

"In the meantime, once I get Newkirk and Carter in there, we'll make sure that the broadcast doesn't happen. I'll find out from the Major tomorrow what time the broadcast is supposed to start and the itinerary for it, if he knows it, and pass that back to you for the final preparation." Hogan looked at Newkirk. "Once we get you and Carter in there, under no circumstances are we to allow Miller to be heard on that broadcast in any way, shape or form, if for some reason Fritz and his men can't get in there before this thing goes on the air."

Newkirk nodded. "Right." He looked at Fritz and his men. "Based on what we heard at the hotel, the Gestapo has some interest in this broadcast and all we can think is that Miller is being used as bait of some kind. "

"Exactly," Hogan concurred. "We want to make sure the line gets cut before it's cast." Hogan looked at Fritz. "When the broadcast goes bust, and Miller's out of there, the rest of us will be trucked back to Stalag 13. We'll contact London from there and let them know Miller is on the way."

"And within twenty-four hours he will be back in England," Fritz said. "God willing."

Hogan nodded. "God willing..."

**Stalag 13  
****November 1944  
****Day 5**

"Message came in from London while you were out," Kinch said after Hogan and Newkirk returned to barracks two. The radio man handed the paper to the Colonel. "They want to know what's going on, German news media has been rather quiet about capturing Miller."

Hogan read the message." There's been no report of anything..."

Kinch shook his head. "Not a thing. And Allied headquarters hasn't announced that Miller is even missing, let alone kidnapped, given the possible implications to troop morale."

"Makes sense," Hogan said. "But how are they managing that?"

"SHAEF has the band running all over England doing live shows. The broadcasts have been suspended due to 'technical' reasons and Miller's absence from the performances is being explained that he's 'under the weather.'"

"Well, Miller will be happy to hear the band's still playing for troops, even if it's not on the radio at the moment." Hogan's eyes narrowed in thought. "But why are the Germans being so quiet about it? I'd figure they'd have him splashed across the newsreels by now and on the front page of every German paper."

"Maybe they're waiting until our side announces he's missing?" LeBeau suggested.

"Maybe Goebbels forgot in all the excitement," Carter said with a snicker.

Newkirk rolled his eyes at Carter. "Blimey..."

"No wait," Hogan said, snapping his fingers. "Carter's right. Goebbels' Propaganda Ministry controls the press. Miller's capture is part of some plan of Goebbels. If nothing is being reported in the press it's because Goebbels doesn't _want_ it reported in the press."

"But why?" Newkirk asked. "They've got the most popular band leader in the world. It's a propaganda dream. What are they waiting for, approval from Hitler?"

Hogan shook his head. "I don't know. But I can't help but think that once the press does start reporting on it, it's going to be big. And bad. All the more reason we have to get Miller out of that radio station before that broadcast, or mess it up as best we can."

"Don't worry, sir," Newkirk said with a smile. "Once me and Andrew are in there, we'll mess things up real nicely."

Carter grinned too and then looked at the Colonel. "How do you plan to get me and Newkirk in there?"

"I suggested to Major Miller that he request vocalists. Hopefully tomorrow, somebody from the Propaganda Ministry will be here to pick you guys up. Make sure though that you and Newkirk are the only two that volunteer. I don't want all of Stalag 13 to look too eager to commit treason."


	20. Debriefing

**Düsseldorf Radio Station  
****Düsseldorf****, ****Germany  
****November, 1944**

**Day 6**

The next morning, Hogan found a couple of minutes to pull Miller aside during a break in rehearsal.

"You look exhausted," Hogan noted.

"You're not exactly looking fresh as a daisy yourself."

Hogan snorted. "It was a long night last night. We tried to get to you but Hochstetter and Reigels got in the way."

Miller nodded. "Yeah. There I was, Little Nell saved by Simon Legree."

"I saw."

Miller looked at Hogan and thought back to the night before. There were two Gestapo officers he hadn't been able to place...

Hogan grinned seeing the realization come to the Major's brown eyes. "Told you I'd be switching uniforms."

Miller chuckled.

"How long did Reigels stay?"

"About an hour."

"You didn't stay awake waiting for me did you?"

"Sort of. I tossed and turned more thinking about this awful broadcast they want to do."

"Reigels give you an itinerary?"

Miller nodded. "It's a half hour program...the first 15 minutes is pretty much all music. After that is rhetoric, but he wouldn't tell me what was going to be said and what I saw of the scripts it was all in German."

"Do they want you to speak?"

"Of course. But I don't know what it is I'll be saying. He gave me a phonetic German script, not unlike what the ABSIE had me read from."

"But wouldn't tell you the subject matter?"

"No."  
  
"No wonder you tossed and turned. For all you know you're pledging allegiance to the Third Reich. And to make things more weird, the Gestapo has a peculiar interest in this broadcast, beyond being your jailers."

"The Gestapo?"

Hogan nodded. "Newkirk and I over heard that conversation between Hochstetter and Reigels. Besides telling Hochstetter to basically simmer down, Reigels said something about Goebbels' plan with you being something that Hochstetter was quite interested in when they were first planning it."

Miller raised an eyebrow and then thought back to two nights previous when Hochstetter gave him hell for the escape attempt. "You know...the other night when Hochstetter read the riot act to me after my escape attempt, he seemed perturbed about the Gestapo having to guard me to begin with. I asked him if I was a waste of his time. He replied that other than the one purpose I would be serving them, yes I was a complete waste of his time."

Hogan nodded. "You're bait. For something."

Miller dwelled on that for a moment. "I think I know what for." He glanced over his shoulder toward the band. "Others like them."

Hogan was dubious. "I don't follow..."

"All these kids are guilty of is enjoying swing and jazz music, which back home would be nothing. But here...here it's a snub to the Nazi's. These kids have no political agenda, they don't take up arms against the Reich. They buy records. _American_ jazz records. They don't care about the color of the skin of the bandleader or his religious preference. All they care about is having good music so they can have a good time." Miller looked at Hogan. "Resistance is resistance, Colonel, but can you think of a bigger threat to everything we've ever read about the Third Reich, to everything we've seen in this war, than what it is that those kids represent?"

Hogan nodded, understanding now. "And considering the existence of the Hitler Youth and the Nazi's requirement that every youth in Germany be in the organization, it makes it difficult for the two sides to reconcile."

"Exactly. And those that don't agree to join are essentially sent off to prison camps. It's the Nazi way or no way." Miller sighed. "They're going to put me on that radio and it'll flush out every Swing Youth in Germany. They'll be crushed."

Hogan shook his head. "No they won't. I've been striking out on trying to spring you so far, but I can guarantee that that broadcast _will_ go bust--" Hogan stopped suddenly when the doors to the studio opened. He glanced to see Reigels and Anna walk in for the first time that morning. He looked back at Miller.

"You want to add the drum solo where?"

"Uh.." Miller saw Reigels and Anna as well and shifted gears to bandleader. "At the pick up of the second chorus," he said following Hogan's lead. "Or what would be the pick up of the second chorus...if I had vocalists."

Hogan gave an indiscreet wink.

Anna heard this as she approached. "Vocalists?" she said.

"Well, I've been giving it some thought," Miller continued. "A couple of vocalists would be nice."

Anna smiled. "Well, Herr Major, for having not wanted to do this broadcast initially you are certainly giving it more thought."

"If it's going to be done, it may as well be done right," Miller said. "And I wouldn't want German vocalists. I would prefer English speaking."

"More POW's?" she asked.

"Preferably."

Anna nodded. "We will see what we can do for you, Herr Major."

"I hope you plan on making a good offer," Hogan said to Anna.

"Of course, Colonel," Anna said. "Special privileges will be offered, just as they were to you and your men here."

"But you're going to have to do one better," Hogan said. "Part of the reason I agreed to do this was to find out if it was really Glenn Miller you had." Hogan looked at Miller and hoped the Major wouldn't be too shocked by what he was about to say next. "Now that I know you do, I suppose the Major here is going to lead half of Stalag 13 to a treason charge."

Miller looked at Hogan, trying to hide his surprise. He followed the Colonel's lead however, and straightened his spine before offering an explanation. "I have little choice, Colonel," he said. "My back is against the wall. Despite what I'm doing, I'm not getting special privileges....other than being allowed to remain standing."

"Then I was right," Hogan said, now looking at Reigels. "People can be cooperative if you threaten them enough."

"We prefer to consider our tactics as persuasive, Colonel," Reigels said.

"Hmm..."

Anna looked at Miller. "Perhaps, Herr Major, you would like some special privileges of your own?"

"Staying alive is privilege enough."

"Maybe a nice dinner, perhaps some female companionship?"

"How about a pack of cigarettes?"

Anna chuckled softly. "Yes... you are married aren't you?"

"Very much so."

"Then perhaps a nice dinner then? You and Colonel Hogan here, along with his men, could dine with us this evening at the (Houserhauf)?"

Hogan and Miller exchanged glances.

"You bringing your camera, Anna?" Hogan asked. "Take a few snapshots of Major Miller dining with Nazis and appearing to enjoy himself?"

Anna paused to consider this. "As I said before, it would show to the Allies that he is being treated well here."

"Forget it," Miller said. "Look, you've got me and you'll have swing music for your broadcast. That's all I'm giving you."

Anna looked at Miller and smiled. "Yes, Herr Major. For now..." She turned and headed for the studio door with Reigels following.

Once the door shut, Hogan looked at Miller. "Nice job."

Miller sighed. "You know, the thought of the fact that, for all intents and purposes, I _am_ in the process of committing treason doesn't sit too well with me."

"Don't worry, the rest of us all look the same way," Hogan said.

"Well, I hope the Propaganda Ministry has enjoyed what swing music they've heard over the past couple of days," Miller said.

"Why's that?"

"Because tomorrow they're not getting any."

Hogan blinked. "What do--?"

"Colonel," LeBeau spoke up.

Hogan and Miller looked at the Frenchman and LeBeau pointed to the control room. The two Army officers turned and saw Hochstetter had entered and was looking in on the studio. Miller turned back to Hogan and gestured for him to get back to the drum kit. The Colonel did so.

"Flat Foot Floogee," Miller announced. The band came to sudden attention and readied their instruments. Miller counted off, and then Hogan hit the hi-hat starting the song. LeBeau, Kinch, Hogan and the kids did the lyrics as best they could.

"_Flat foot floogee with the bright eyes....flat foot floogee with the bright eyes....flat foot floogee with the bright eyes... bright eyes, bright eyes, bright eyes_..."

The band then launched in to the song. Hochstetter remained in the control room. In fact he remained through the whole song. Even after Miller announced _In the Mood_ and the band played that, Hochstetter still remained in the control room.

After the band finished the run through of the song, Miller glanced over his shoulder, seeing Hochstetter was still in the control room. He turned back to the band and looked at Hogan. "What's he doing up there?" he wondered quietly.

Hogan put the drum sticks down. "Let's find out..." He stood up and walked to the middle of the studio, looking through the glass at Hochstetter. "Hiya Major! Didn't know you were such a fan of swing music!"

Hochstetter scowled and got up from his chair. He went to the door that led from the control room directly to the studio and opened it. "I'm not," he said as he came out. "But I've always been highly suspicious of you, Colonel Hogan."

"Why is that, I wonder?"

"Very strange things happen to things that you always seem to be somehow involved in," Hochstetter said. "Plans fail, people disappear..."

"Maybe it's just coincidence," Hogan said.

"I don't think so."

"Maybe it's bad luck?" Miller suggested.

Hochstetter glared at Miller. He then turned his gaze back to Hogan. "Just be reminded Colonel, that Major Miller is under the guard of the Gestapo and is _not_ a POW..."

"The Major was telling me that," Hogan said. "Too bad really, he'd get along great with everybody back at Stalag 13. Lot of the guys like his music."

"Hmmm..." Hochstetter said. "Would they still be such enthusiasts if they knew he was broadcasting for our side?"

"Well, none of us would blame him. Especially seeing as he's been persuaded by warm and friendly folks such as yourself."

Miller snickered which earned him a cold glare from Hochstetter. "Bah!" the Gestapo Major said and marched to the studio doors, letting himself out.

"He's a ball of joy isn't he?" Miller said.

Hogan chuckled.


	21. Two for Tea

_Two for Tea_

**Stalag 13**

**November, 1944**

**Day 6**

"Vocalists?" Klink repeated, looking at Reigels and Anna who were seated across from his desk. "What does Major Miller think Stalag 13 is? The Copenhagen School of Music?"

"Well, if you don't believe there are any prisoners here who would be able to assist I'm sure there are Kommandant's of other Stalags who would be more than willing to help..." Reigels said.

Klink chuckled nervously. "I was merely trying to make a joke..uh—Unteroffizier! Tell the prisoners there will be a roll call in five minutes!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" the Unteroffizier replied and turned, leaving Klink's office.

Klink looked back at Reigels and Anna with more nervous chuckling. "Uh..." He stood up and stepped around the side of his desk. "I happen to know that several of the prisoners here take part in small choirs and acappella singing. I'm sure we will have no problem finding singers for the Major."

"Very good, Colonel," Reigels said.

"You know, if I may ask...is there any possibility that I could be of any assistance with this broadcast?"

Anna turned in her chair to look at Klink, with a little alarm. "Colonel Klink, don't tell me you sing?"

"Oh no no!" Klink replied with a laugh. "Well, I've done a little singing here and there, but certainly not of the level that would be required for this_ very _important broadcast. No, I was thinking perhaps I could assist with the announcing duties?"

"The Propaganda Ministry appreciates your wanting to help but it will not be necessary," Reigels said. "We will be having Major Miller do most of the announcing during the broadcast."

"Major Miller? Will he be speaking German?"

"Some German. Some English also, as we will be broadcasting the program to London as well."

"I see. Are you sure you would not want some one else to speak the German while Major Miller speaks English?"

Reigels smiled as he and Anna stood up from their seats. "Your willingness to help with the broadcast is commendable, Herr Kommandant. But I assure we are well prepared. Now...the vocalists?"

Klink looked disappointed. "Yes, the vocalists..." He headed for the door with Reigels and Anna following.

Being the only two to volunteer, much to Klink's chagrin, Newkirk and Carter were brought to Klink's office before being taken to Düsseldorf.

"Just two of you?" Klink said. "But there are several of you whom I've heard sing, I don't understand this."

"Well sir," Newkirk explained, "some of the lads are a little under the weather, their voices aren't sounding all that good right now. And some of the others I think are really intimidated by the idea of singing for Major Miller."

"Yeah," Carter added. "He's _real_ particular you know. Very disciplined." He waved his thumb between himself and Newkirk. "He may not even like us!"

"Unfortunately, Major Miller does not have the luxury to be choosy," Reigels said. "He will have to settle for the two of you. Assuming of course, you _can_ sing..."

"Of course we can sing!" Carter replied. "Why else would we volunteer??"

Newkirk nudged Carter with his elbow. "We could be volunteering just to get the special privileges."

"Well I would think we better be able to carry a tune in a bucket or else we won't get anything." Carter looked at Reigels. "Right?"

Reigels nodded.

"See?" Carter looked at Newkirk now. "Boy they're gonna find out we can sing!"

"Hauptmann Reigels," Klink said, "I can assure that these men can sing. I've heard them."

"Very well," Reigels said. He looked at the two prisoners. "Let us be going now..."

Carter and Newkirk turned and started for the door. Together, they started to sing: "Over there! Over there! Send the word, send the word, over there!..." as they marched out of Klink's office.

**Düsseldorf Radio Station**

**Düsseldorf****Germany******

**November 1944**

**Day 6**

With two hours left of rehearsal time, Miller called for a break. Hans and Ahren took a chance and approached Major Miller. It seemed like the American Colonel was around the bandleader all the time, pulling him off to the side and talking to him in hushed tones. Although the boys were suspicious, they figured it might have something to do with the Major attempting to escape the other night. The Colonel could have been telling the Major one of two things: How to do it right the next time, or to not do it again.

The boys were figuring the Colonel told him don't do it again, given that there had been no indication of any escape attempt the night before. Although Erik had been pretty shaken up by being singled out the day before, he and all of the boys knew that Major Miller could not, and should not, remain in Germany. If there was an opportunity for him to escape he should take it. They would face whatever they had to from the Gestapo for it. They had all faced much before.

With the American Colonel talking to the other two prisoners, Hans and Ahren approached Miller at the front of the bandstand. "Herr Miller?"

Miller looked up at the two. He saw both the seriousness and the concern on the young faces.

"Can we speak with you for a moment?" Ahren asked.

"Sure."

Hans' head moved slightly, indicating that he and Ahren wanted their own off to the side conversation. The boys then walked back towards the risers of the bandstand and Miller followed. When they stopped and turned back to him, he quietly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Herr Miller," Hans started, "did you... try to escape last night?"

Miller paused looking between the two. Although he was surprised by the question, he knew he shouldn't have been. The whole band had seen what happened the day before when Reigels tried to make Erik take the punishment for Miller's escape attempt. There was no hiding there had been an attempt. But there had been no attempt last night....

Miller's look was concerned as he answered. "No. Why, did Hochstetter or Reigels try something?"

The boys shook their heads. "Nein. We were just wondering." Ahren said.

"Oh. No, I didn't try to escape last night."

"Why not?" Hans asked.

Miller was caught off guard by Hans' tone. The boy wasn't merely wondering....he was practically demanding. "Well, because I had visitors. First was Hochstetter, who tried to take me to his Gestapo jail and then Reigels showed up, spoiling Hochstetter's plan."

"You were questioned by them?" Ahren asked.

"No. Hochstetter hardly said anything to me, he let his goons with the gun---er, his guards with the guns do the talking. Reigels came around to discuss the broadcast."

The boys nodded. "Herr Miller," Hans said, "we know you must try to escape. We know you should not be here. Please don't let us stop you from getting away from here."

"We will take whatever punishment the Gestapo and Reigels give, just as long as you make it safely back to England," Ahren added.

Miller was stunned. It took a moment for him to find his voice. "You boys don't know what you're saying..."

"Yes, we do," Hans said. "You _should not_ be here. Therefore, you must leave here. _Soon_..."

The studio doors suddenly clicked open and Hauptmann Reigels entered with Carter and Newkirk.

Hogan turned from his conversation with LeBeau and Kinch and made eye contact with Miller. Before the Major could excuse himself from the boys, Hans gently touched his arm. The young boy's eyes were serious as he looked at Miller. "Remember," he said, "_you must..._"

Miller hesitated and then nodded. Not so much because he agreed with leaving them behind to take the punishment but agreeing with the urgency in getting out of the place. Of _all of them _getting out of the place.

Miller stepped away from the boys and came to the middle of the studio. "Nice of them to be timely," Hogan said quietly, coming to stand next to Major Miller. Reigels approached with Carter and Newkirk.

"Major Miller," Reigels said, "these were the only two prisoners to volunteer. Will two be sufficient?"

"Two will be fine. I wasn't expecting a choir."

Reigels gave a curt nod. "Very well." He turned to Carter and Newkirk. "The Propaganda Ministry thanks you for volunteering."

"Oh no sir," Newkirk said with a smile. "_Thank you..._"

Reigels wasn't sure he cared for the Englander's tone. He eye Newkirk warily before turning to leave with Anna.

"Charming lot," Newkirk muttered before turning back to face the Colonel and Major Miller. Carter came up directly to the Major with a wide eyed grin. "You really are Glenn Miller!"

"_Carter_..." Hogan said.

"Oh, sorry sir." Carter stepped back and saluted Major Miller. "You really are Glenn Miller. Sir."

Miller chuckled and returned a salute to the young airman. "Yes, I am. Although previously I've tried to deny it."

"Major Glenn Miller, Sergeant Andrew Carter," Hogan said.

Miller extended a hand and shook hands with the sergeant. "Nice to meet you."

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Carter said. "I've got several of your records back home. I even saw ya in person once, just before I went into the service. And I saw you in _Sun Valley Serenade_." Carter paused. "Haven't seen _Orchestra Wives_ yet."

"Uh Carter?" Hogan spoke up.

"Sorry, sir." Carter smiled at the Major and stepped back.

"Major.... Corporal Peter Newkirk."

Newkirk smiled and shook Miller's hand. "I'm with Andrew tho', it's an honor to meet you sir."

"You going to gush like Carter did?" Hogan joked.

"Uh, no sir." Newkirk grinned and stepped back. He then leaned forward a bit. "But I could."

Major Miller stood with Colonel Hogan, LeBeau and Kinch as the young musicians were led out of the studio first by the Gestapo guard. As they had done for the previous two days, each band member looked at the Major and nodded, bidding him good night. He nodded back and said "Gute nacht," for all of them. Hans and Ahren spoke more formally. "Guten Abend, Herr Miller," each of them said. In each of their faces, Miller saw the honor and the sense of a salute. They were saying more than just good night. They were taking the opportunity to say goodbye, knowing if there was a chance for the Major to escape he should take it.

Once the boys were gone, Miller turned to Hogan. The Colonel had a small smile on his face and was tucking something into his brown bomber jacket.

"We'll stop by and see you later at the hotel."

"What?"

"Some more rehearsal," Hogan answered with a wink. He then saluted the Major and Miller saluted back. The Colonel and his men then turned as Schultz was approaching to lead them off.

"You gonna count us, Schultzie?" Newkirk asked. "You should have five..."

"Jolly joker," Schultz replied. "Rouse." He pointed to the door. The heroes obliged and marched, single file out of the studio. It was then that Miller realized what Hogan had been tucking into his bomber jacket.

Sheet music.

As they drove back to Stalag 13, Hogan pulled the sheet music out of his jacket. He turned in the passenger seat at the front of the truck to face the heroes who were in the back of the truck. "Okay fellas, this song here. I think we're going to have to really work on it to make it good for tomorrow...."

Schultz glanced away from the road ahead of him and saw what Hogan had. "Ah ah ah! Where did you get that?!"

"Major Miller," Hogan replied.

"Major Miller?? He is not supposed to be letting you have any of the things for the broadcast!" Schultz snatched the sheet music away from the Colonel.

"The sheet music?? C'mon Schultz, it's not like we just stole Hitler's memoirs!"

Schultz brought the truck to a stop at the side of the road. "This is the property of the Propaganda Ministry and you dangerous prisoners are not supposed to have any of this stuff."

"Schultz, like having a copy of the sheet music for "Perfidia" is going to change the course of the war! C'mon..." Hogan reached out for the sheet music but Schultz held it out of reach.

"Nein! We will go back to Düsseldorf and return this to the Major."

"All the way back to Düsseldorf just to return some sheet music?? Schultz, that's ridiculous!"

"We will go back to Düsseldorf." Schultz put the truck in gear and turned it around in the middle of the road and they headed back to Düsseldorf.

Hogan held back his grin. This was going better than he thought. Now to convince Schultz that once they got to Düsseldorf, they should stay for a bit to work out the song with the Major.


	22. Final Preperations

**Düsseldorf Hotel  
****Düsseldorf****Germany  
****November 1944  
****Day 6 **

The Gestapo guard that was posted outside of Major Miller's hotel room door looked at Sergeant Schultz as the portly camp guard approached with Hogan and all the heroes in tow.

"_What is this_?" the guard asked.

"_Colonel Hogan and these men would like to speak with Major Miller, about the broadcast tomorrow_," Schultz said.

Hogan held up the borrowed sheet music he had. "These arrangements," he said. "We have to talk to him about these arrangements and have him take a listen to the vocalists, as we didn't have much time this afternoon." He pointed to Carter and Newkirk.

The Gestapo guard didn't understand a word Hogan said. He looked at Schultz.

Schultz translated and added, "_It would not do any harm. They can not escape. We are on the sixth floor."_

_"That's true. How long will they be?"_

Schultz looked at Hogan. "How long will you be?"

"Well, we're not going to have much of a chance to discuss anything with him tomorrow...let's say two hours?"

"Two hours?!" Schultz repeated. "Colonel Hogan---"  
  
"Remember Schultz, strudel..." LeBeau said.

Schultz hesitated, gave a whine and then a sigh. He looked at the Gestapo guard. "_They need two hours."_

The Gestapo guard considered this for a moment. He really didn't see any problem with it. He nodded to Schultz and then turned and knocked on the hotel room door.

Major Miller stepped out of the wash room with a white hand towel in hand. His brown uniform jacket had been shed and was laying across the end of the bed, along with his neck tie. He hoped whoever his visitor was didn't mind his relaxed attire. He opened the door.

He was surprised to see so many faces looking back at him. The Gestapo guard pointed to Schultz.

"Herr Major," Schultz said. "Colonel Hogan and his men here would like to speak with you about tomorrow's broadcast."

Miller glanced at Hogan and his troop and then looked back at Schultz. "Certainly." He stepped back, opening the door wider and letting the heroes enter. Schultz looked at his watch and then looked at Colonel Hogan. "Two hours," he reminded.

"Two hours, Schultz," Hogan said.

Schultz nodded and stepped back. Miller closed the door and turned toward the room.

"How'd you manage this?" Miller asked.

Hogan grinned. "It's all the Propaganda Ministry's fault. They brought Carter and Newkirk in too late for you to get a good rehearsal with them for tomorrow's broadcast."

"Besides," LeBeau said, "convincing Schultz to bring us here was easy."

"Yeah, piece of strudel," Carter said with a smile.

"But the broadcast isn't until tomorrow evening. We'll have all day to rehearse."

"Yes, but we won't have all day to discuss escape plans," Hogan said. "I've the feeling that radio station is going to be crawling with Propaganda people in anticipation of the broadcast. Do you have that German script you're supposed to read from?"

"Sure..." Miller tossed the towel he had been holding onto the night stand and turned to the writing desk. He picked up a single sheet of paper and handed it to the Colonel. "I'm not sure I want to know what it says though..."

Hogan read the paper with Newkirk coming up beside him to read over the Colonel's shoulder. The two men were quiet as they read, but Miller, Carter, Kinch and LeBeau could all see the reaction on their faces.

Newkirk looked across the paper at Miller. "You're right, you don't want to know what it says."

Miller gulped, curiosity settling in. He looked at Hogan, who was still staring at the paper. "Colonel?"

Hogan paused, taking a deep breath. "I was right," he said softly, his eyes still looking at the paper. "You're denouncing everything with the Allied cause....you've been shown the error of your ways, and you believe that the preservation of the Aryan race is paramount. You're calling on the youth of Germany to except their responsibilty to the Fatherland..."

"Like hell I am."

"_Non_" LeBeau said, grabbing the paper from Hogan. He then tore it in half.

"LeBeau!"

"We can not let them do this, _mon__ Colonel!" _LeBeau said.

"We're not going to, LeBeau. That's why we're here right now so we can finalize the plans for tomorrow." Hogan took the torn paper back from LeBeau. He handed it to Miller and looked at the Major. "Should they ask, tell Reigels you figured out what they want you to say."

Miller nodded and turned back to the desk, putting the pieces of paper down. "If it makes you feel any better, LeBeau," he said, turning back to the group and the Frenchman, "I don't plan on having you fellas play any actual swing music tomorrow during that broadcast anyway."

Hogan looked at Miller. "You said that earlier...what are we going to play?"

"Noise."

"Noise?" Hogan grinned.

Miller nodded. "If you recall, the _Fraulien_ from the Propaganda Ministry so graciously pointed out that the Reich frowns on such _noise_. So that's exactly what she's going to get."

The heroes laughed. "l like your way of thinking, Major," Hogan said.

Miller gave a slight bow. "Thank you, Colonel."

"Propaganda Ministry won't like it tho'..." Newkirk said.

"Won't matter by that point. I think we can use that as our cue for Fritz and his men to come in. What time is that broadcast supposed to start?"

"Eight o'clock."

Hogan nodded. "Okay. Most of the big shots should be there by seven-thirty or quarter of. At the very least, Fritz will be able to swap out those Gestapo guards in 15 minutes....though, it might be better if does it earlier in the evening."

"What if Fritz can't make the change until after the broadcast starts?" Kinch asked.

"That's where we all come in," Hogan said. "If the Major here is going to have us play noise, the Krauts will cut that live feed in a heartbeat. We'll all get hell for it but I think we can stall long enough for Fritz and his boys to move in."

"What about the kids who might be listening to the broadcast?" Miller asked. "Even if it goes bust, the Gestapo could still move in and do a sweep."

Hogan nodded. "I'm going to see Fritz later tonight and have him put a message out to the clubs to be aware of any broadcasts on German radio featuring you and your music. If they're not listening that should spare them from any Gestapo raids."

Miller nodded.

"By the way," Hogan continued and turned to Newkirk. "_Fraulien_ Gebhart has tried before to snap pictures of Miller and the band and I'm sure tomorrow will be no different. I'll leave that up to you to make sure she doesn't get any pictures?"

Newkirk grinned. "I can take care of that, no problem."

There was a knock on the hotel room door and the men all looked to see Schultz poke his head in.

"What's the matter, Schultz?" Hogan asked.

"I do not hear any singing."

"We haven't gotten to that yet."

"Oh..." Schultz paused and then narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't be thinking to plan any escapes would you?"

"Now Schultz, how could the six of us escape with you standing right out the door there?"

"Hmm." Schultz nodded. "That is true...." He stepped back and closed the door once again.

The heroes and Miller chuckled as Hogan turned back to face them. "That oughta hold him for awhile. But all the same we probably better sing a song or two here. Carter, Newkirk..." Hogan handed the sheet music to Carter and he stood next the Newkirk. They each cleared their throats and then began to sing.

"_To you,  
__my__ heart cries out Perfidia.  
__For I found you the love of my life,  
__in__ somebody else's arms  
__  
Your eyes,  
__are__ echoing Perfidia.  
__Forgetful of a promise of love  
__you're__ sharing another charms..."_

After two sang "Perfidia" and "Skylark" Hogan returned to business. As he recapped what they had so far Major Miller sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up his uniform jacket, going through the pockets. He found his lighter but failed to find any remaining cigarettes. He frowned.

Newkirk saw this. "Oh, we have something for you, sir..." he said. He sat down on the other side of the bed and produced a package of cigarettes from his RAF uniform jacket for the Major. "We overheard Reigels tell Hochstetter to remove the cigarettes from your pack before you got it back."

Miller nodded. "I wondered what happened to them...." He paused to open the pack and remove a cigarette. "And I knew I wouldn't be able to conserve what I had left in my pocket." He paused a moment to light the cigarette and savored the first drag. He looked at Newkirk. "Thank you."

Newkirk smiled. "You're welcome."

As Miller grabbed the ash tray off the night stand, LeBeau pulled the chair from the desk, which was to Miller's left, and brought it closer, sitting down. Carter and Kinch did the same with the two remaining chairs in the room, bringing them up toward the end of the bed. Hogan remained standing by choice.

Miller paused. "Colonel....what about those kids?"

Hogan turned to Miller. "With all due respect, Major....we've had this conversation. Frankly, this isn't really a good time to be sentimental."

"Yes, and we're going to have the conversation again. I'm not being sentimental. I'm feeling guilty. Those kids shouldn't even be here and the only reason they are is because..." Miller cut himself short, refusing to put the blame on the Colonel. Instead he put it on himself. "...because I agreed to do all this."

"Because I _told you _to agree to it," Hogan said, correcting the Major. The Colonel didn't look at Miller, but the bandleader was studying him closely. The heroes were looking back and forth between the two men, knowing what conclusion the Major was coming to.

"You haven't thought once of those kids....you didn't have a plan at the time I walked out of that cooler, did you?"

Hogan looked up at Miller. "Of course I've thought of them! I'm not heartless here! And as for having a plan at the moment you walked out of that cooler, I'll admit it, no, I didn't have a specific one. But I wasn't about to leave you in there."

"Would've been all right by me."

"_No, it wouldn't have..._" Hogan said. "Major, you have no idea what could have happened to you in there. You have no idea what they might have done to you, once they decided they weren't going to waste their time with you anymore. I've only known you for a short time, Major Miller, but I know you would've resisted come hell or high water. And being that you are an officer of the United States Army, I'd expect no less. But when it reached a point that you were going to be no help to the Germans, they sure as hell wouldn't be sending you back to England alive. They would have made an example of your demise, I'm sure..."

Miller looked away from Hogan.

"There were a lot of variables the gov'nor had to consider," Newkirk said, offering something for the Colonel's defense. "The Propaganda Ministry, the broadcast, how long they were going to keep you at Stalag 13. Plus he had London breathin' down his neck. None of us had any idea what the broadcast was going to be. And certainly none of us expected them to bring kids in for that band!"

Miller looked at his cigarette for a moment and then turned his dark eyes to the Colonel. "Well they're here now," he said. "And if I make it back to England, the Propaganda Ministry and the Gestapo _will_ take it out on them."

"Couldn't the Underground get them out?" Carter asked innocently. "There's only what? Nine of them?"

"Maybe," Hogan said. "But that's not what we've planned for. We don't even know if all of those kids would be cooperative in the escape, and if any of them got away from us and got back to the Gestapo, we'd be finished."

"You mean if they're _picked up _by the Gestapo," Miller said.

"You're assuming none of these kids would go to the Gestapo?"

"You're assuming they _would_? Colonel, these kids were arrested by the Gestapo. They hate the Gestapo and in turn the Gestapo is not too fond of them. They'll question those kids if they're left behind and if the Gestapo doesn't hear the answers they want, those kids will pay a price."

"Gestapo will question us too," Kinch said.

"That's to be expected," Hogan said. He paused for a long moment, thinking. He then looked at Miller. "You're right though, those kids will be questioned. And I know they've seen us talking." Hogan paused. "You're going to make my job all that more difficult aren't you?"

"I promised myself I wouldn't," Miller replied. "Of course, I was in the cooler at the time...."

Hogan was quiet in thought. He looked down at the floor, considering ramifications, possibilities. Could it be done? Nine kids, plus the Major...ten people total, in one shot? Could Fritz's people do it? Hogan took a deep breath and figured there was only one way to find out. He looked back up at Major Miller. "How many of them do you think will go with you?"

Miller's look turned hopeful. "Based on what I've learned about these kids, I'd bet on all of them."

"Even the Hitler Youth ones?" LeBeau asked.

Miller nodded. "They're swing kids before they're Hitler Youth."

"You sure about that?" Hogan asked.

Miller looked at the Colonel, surprised at the bluntness of the question. "I'm sure. I've only spent about 8 hours a day with them for the last three days."

Hogan nodded. "I'm not purposely trying to cut you down here, but you have to understand my orders are specific: Get you back to London. Period at the end. Granted, the Underground could probably get those kids out too, but they may decide not to, or may not be able to. _You're_ the priority." Hogan paused, seeing the Major wasn't completely agreeable with that. "I told you it wasn't a good time to be sentimental...or guilty."

"But Colonel, I don't understand. You just said yourself that those kids have seen us talking. They tell that to the Gestapo, thinking that you and I have been discussing nothing more than the broadcast, the Gestapo going to assume some things and come down on your organization. _Hard_."

"And like I told you yesterday, that's the risk I have to take."

Miller sighed not wanting to repeat his argument from the day before with Hogan. Instead he looked down at his uniform jacket laying on the bed. "Fine," he said. Still looking at his jacket, the brass buttons, the rank insignia on the shoulders, the US emblems on the collar, he thought of the possibilities of what could happen to those kids, knowing it would bother him for a long time. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"We've managed to discredit anything the Gestapo's had on us up to this point," Carter said. "We can do it again."

Miller opened his eyes and looked at Carter. "I hope so," he said.

"I only point out the harsh reality because the possibility is there," Hogan said. "However, that doesn't mean I won't make a case to the Underground for you. But even I can't guarantee anything. Once you're on the escape route, you're in the hands of the Underground and they're the ones that call the shots at that point."

"I understand, Colonel."

Newkirk looked at the Major. "Those kids really _are_ good musicians..."

Miller nodded. "Yeah, they are...but even if they were bad musicians I'd still want to take them back. I've asked them to go against one of their strongest principles but I can't tell them why. And in not being able to tell them, I'm essentially using them for my own personal gain, and possibly risking their lives in the process. And I don't like that. I _have_ to do something for them in return."

"Those kids seem pretty fond of you," Kinch pointed out. "It's possible they would risk their lives for you."

Miller paused, recalling Hans and Ahren basically telling him to get the hell out of Germany anyway he could, as soon as he could. They had to already know what they would face from the Gestapo if that happened. Certainly Miller knew it. And that was why he was being something of pain to the Colonel now.

"I'd never ask them to do that," he said finally, shaking his head. "I especially wouldn't in a situation like this, where these kids didn't have a choice to be involved in this or not to begin with."

"But you're willing to risk your life..." Hogan said.

"I had a choice, Colonel. I didn't have to join the Army. But I chose too. I didn't have to bring the band over to England, but I chose too. I insisted on it." Miller paused. "Music is what I do, it's all I have to offer. I love my country, and if I was twenty years younger and didn't have such terrible eyesight I would've been first in line to enlist in whatever branch would take me, to defend my country. But now, I'm no good as a soldier. So instead of a rifle in my hand I come with the only thing I can. An instrument. Music. And I give all I can to keep the morale up for those who are the good soldiers, for those who are doing the fighting."

"Major," Hogan said, coming to stand behind the chair Carter sat in and looking directly at Miller, "you're more soldier than you realize..."

**  
Stalag 13  
****November 1944  
****Day 6**

Before leaving the hotel in Düsseldorf, the heroes sang one more tune, to keep Schultz from getting suspicious again. Hogan then told the Major to get a good night's rest, as the next day would be very busy. Not knowing if he would have another chance, Miller thanked each of the heroes for what they were doing. As he shook their hands in appreciation, and good night, he committed each face to memory. He would not forget these five men.

Back at Stalag 13, the heroes gathered in Hogan's quarters.

"You're going back to see Fritz?" Kinch asked.

Hogan nodded. "I've been thinking though. We need something to make sure that radio broadcast is terminated. Completely." He looked at Carter. "We need something that can sabotage the works..."

Carter thought for a moment. "Well, I've got one of those magnesium pencils left, we could set a timer and detonator cap to it. Put it somewhere in the paneling of the broadcast controls. When the magnesium ignites it'll meltdown the wires."

Hogan nodded. "But we'd have to find time to slip that pencil into the works in the control room..."

"Yeah. Could be tricky. But it wouldn't take any more than a minute to just slip it in."

Hogan nodded again. "I think we're going to need a back up though, incase we can't get into that control room tomorrow if there's too many people crawling around."

"What kind of backup?"

"The transmitter."

"Sabotage the transmitter?" Carter said. "Colonel, if getting into the control room is going to be tricky, how are we going to get to the transmitter with all that Gestapo around during the day?!"

"Exactly. Which is why we do it tonight. We can go back right now, rig it, go see Fritz and be back in time for morning roll call."

"This is turning out to be another long night," Newkirk grumbled.

"The next three days or so are going to be long, Newkirk." Hogan looked at Carter. "You got something to hit the transmitter with?"

"Sure."

"Go get it. Kinch, we're going to need a taxi from Hammelburg."

Kinch nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Newkirk, you, Carter and I will go tonight. We'll need Gestapo uniforms."

"Right sir..." the Englishman got up and went to collect the uniforms.

"LeBeau, you and Kinch will have to stall Schultz if for some reason we're not back by roll call in the morning. If it runs too late you'll just have to say we escaped. Barring all else, we'll try to get back here as fast as we can."

"Oui, Colonel."

**  
Düsseldorf Radio Station  
****Düsseldorf****Germany  
****November 1944  
****Day 6**

Colonel Hogan stood by the fire escape of the two story building that housed the radio station and looked up and down the little back alley he was in. Thankfully, the fire escape was in the back of the building where no one would see them from the street.

He looked at his watch and then looked up the ladder to the roof top. "C'mon fellas," he whispered loudly.

"Almost done, Colonel!" came Carter's hushed reply. He took the two sticks of dynamite that Newkirk held and placed them together near the point where the station's wire came through the roof to connect with the transmitter. They were then bound around the metal leg of the transmitter with fastening tape. The detonator cap and timer were then affixed to the leg of the transmitter.

Newkirk clicked on the small flashlight and held it to the timer so Carter could set it. "What time you got?" Carter asked.

"Twenty-three hundred, eighteen."

Carter nodded and set the current time and then the time for the explosive to go off. Twenty hundred hours, three minutes.

"We'll synchronize the magnesium pencil to go off at the same time, assuming we can get it in there."

"Right." Newkirk watched as Carter made the last adjustments to the explosive device, as if he were a florist fixing a flower arrangement. "Have I ever mentioned you're scary to watch when you do this?"

Carter grinned.

**  
Fritz's Bakery  
****Düsseldorf, Germany  
****November 1944  
****Day 6**

Fritz was surprised to see Colonel Hogan, Newkirk and Carter arrive at his bakery dressed in Gestapo uniforms, especially since Hogan was the only he had been expecting. Hogan quickly explained the sabotage set up they had just completed and got right down to business for the final details for the next day's activities.

"Everything is ready, Colonel," Fritz said. "We will have transportation by tomorrow morning and can swap out the guards at the outside entrances at any time after that."

Hogan nodded. "Good. The broadcast is scheduled for eight o'clock, Major Miller will be providing your cue. When you hear the sound of musical instruments making the most hideous noise you've ever heard, that's when you move in. You'll know for sure when the radio goes silent because either the Propaganda Ministry will pull the plug or the transmitter will have blown."

Fritz nodded and as he thought about it more, he chuckled. "Hideous music?"

"Major Miller had already decided he wasn't going to allow the band to play any real swing music for this broadcast. Instead he's just going to have us play noise." Hogan grinned.

"Sounds like the Major will do more damage than the sabotage you have set up."

"His method will be most effective, that's for sure. But it won't serve as a timely warning to anybody listening. We think the Gestapo is looking to do a sweep of the Swing Youths...is there anyway you can get a warning out to them to not tune in to the broadcast?"

Fritz nodded. "We can."

"Ok. I also have a request from the Major..."

"Of course."

"He would like for the kids to make the escape with him."

Fritz smiled. "Colonel...we are all ready prepared to take the boys as well."

Hogan blinked. "You are?"

"Ja. Those that wish to go, that is. The Hitler Youth ones naturally give us pause, but the other boys we know will just be sent back to camps and they most likely would rather go to England."

"But there's nine of them. With Miller that makes ten. In the two years you and I have been working together, the most we've ever sent back to England at one time was four."

"I know Colonel, but we are prepared. We have safe houses, clothes and the means. We can take all nine of the boys and the Major." Fritz paused. "It would not be fair, to leave those boys behind..."

Hogan felt a little ashamed as he looked at Fritz. He let out a slow breath. "No," he said. "It wouldn't." Hogan glanced at Carter and Newkirk. "I feel like a fool...bound by the chains of command."

"We don't envy you, sir," Newkirk said. "But we don't fault you either."

"We knew you didn't want to see anything happen to those kids," Carter said. "But we also know that, priorities had to be placed...and that certain promises couldn't be offered."

Fritz looked at the three Allied prisoners with question. "Colonel?"

Hogan looked at Fritz and chuckled softly. "I've been debating with Major Miller for two days about those kids. I know better, where there's a will there's a way. I had no idea that as you were preparing for all this, that you were preparing for the kids too."

"I am sorry, Colonel. I should have told you."

Hogan waved it off. "It's okay. The Major will be very happy....and so am I."


	23. Waiting

**Stalag 13**

**November 1944**

**Day 7**

The noon time roll call had come and gone and Hogan and his men were still at Stalag 13. Hogan looked at his watch, slowly pacing the floor of the barracks like an expectant father. The rest of the heroes sat at the table, playing cards and watching Hogan pace.

"Would've been nice if they had told us when they were going to need us," Newkirk said.

"Yeah," Carter said, "instead of leaving us sitting here, feeling like we're waiting for the axe to fall."

Hogan stopped pacing. "Carter..."

"Sorry, sir."

"It's true though," LeBeau said. "We _do_ feel like we're waiting for the axe to fall!"

"I know..." Hogan resumed pacing. The door to the barracks opened and Schultz came in.

"Time to go, Schultz?" Hogan asked.

"Nein. The Kommandant wants to see you."

"Oh. You wouldn't happen to know what time we're supposed to leave for Düsseldorf do you?"

Schultz shook his head. "The Propaganda Ministry will notify us when we are to bring you in."

Hogan nodded. "Okay." Schultz stepped aside of the door to let Hogan out first.

"Colonel Hogan," Klink said, after Hogan had entered and took a seat by the Kommandant's desk. "This broadcast this evening is very important and I want you to remind your men that you all must be on your best behavior. There will be many important people at the radio station tonight and it is rumored that the Fuehrer will be listening to the broadcast."

Hogan's smile was broad. "I bet ol' Adolph is a great jitterbugger."

"Hogan! The Fuehrer will not be listening for the music content!"

"Why else would he be listening?"

"To hear the voices of the youth pledge their loyalty and allegiance to the Reich."

"Ah, I see. And as an added bonus he'll hear Major Glenn Miller pledge his new found forced allegiance to the Reich."

"I have been told by the Propaganda Ministry that Miller has been most cooperative. And I expect you and your men to be most cooperative as well."

"Oh we have been, Kommandant. But I'm not aware that any of us will be speaking during the broadcast."

"No, but it will be mentioned that some of the band members are POW's. Your names will all be announced by Major Miller."

"You don't think he'll come down with a sudden case of laryngitis and not be able to speak?"

"The Major's resistance thus far has been minimal. The Propaganda Ministry is sure that he will go through with the broadcast and will not pull any tricks."

"You mean he'll be heavily persuaded not to pull any tricks."

"Colonel Hogan, when are you going to realize that the Major's lack of heavy resistance only shows that he wishes to cooperate? It's quite possible that, given he has seen the war from the other side in the same time that you've only seen it from a prison camp, the Allies may just be crumbling in their fight."

"It's more possible that he's been threatened enough to cooperate." Hogan stood up from the chair, grabbing his crush cap off of Klink's spiked helmet. "And the Allied fight has not and will not crumble, Kommandant. For that is certain." Hogan turned to the door.

"Hogan."

The Colonel stopped and turned back.

"Remember, I expect you and your men to behave during this broadcast."

"Don't worry, Kommandant, we'll act no worse than we ever have here." Hogan gave an apathetic salute before walking out of the office.

**Düsseldorf Hotel**

**Düsseldorf****Germany******

**November, 1944**

**Day 7**

Major Miller sorted out what was left in his kit, carefully placing various items within the pockets of his uniform. He had only a few items left from what he had started with 5 days earlier. He was down to three-quarters of a pack of cigarettes, one chocolate bar, and one package of crackers. The SPAM, coffee and cookies were gone. The loss of the SPAM was unfortunate, as the crackers were a bit on the dry side and benefited from being paired with the SPAM. But, the crackers were edible at the least and Miller knew he was in no position to be choosy.

He pocketed the comb and spare blade for the razor easy enough in one of the breast pockets. He wrapped the spare blade in bath tissue, hoping to provide at least enough of a barrier that if he turned the wrong way or bent over to quickly the blade wouldn't cut into him too deep. Of course, it had a lot of material to cut through first, the most of which was the brown uniform jacket he wore. But better to be safe than sorry. The razor head itself was placed in one of the bottom pockets of the jacket along with the soap. The crackers found a spot in the other pocket with his cigarettes. The chocolate bar was opposite the comb and spare blade.

So with the few items of his kit now distributed between the four pockets of his uniform jacket, Major Miller stood before the mirror in the washroom and eyed the pockets, making sure they didn't look too bulky or showed that they were hiding anything. He adjusted the jacket upon his shoulders, turned, keeping an eye on the pockets and determined that the pockets hardly betrayed a thing.

Of course he had plenty of room. As he studied the pockets and the jacket as a whole he was reminded once again of the fact that he had lost a few pounds since the uniform was originally cut and tailored for him, nearly two years earlier. Somehow it seemed like a lifetime ago...

He sighed and exited the washroom, turning the light out. The small pack that had been used for his kit was placed on the bed, empty. He could do nothing more now than wait.

**Town of ****Düsseldorf******

**Düsseldorf****Germany******

**November 1944**

**Day 7**

Fritz and his men were waiting too, as patiently as they could. Fritz's men were already dressed in the Gestapo uniforms, and had been for several hours. Although they were all well hid, the passage of time increased their chances of being caught. Some alleyways and hallways only stayed empty for so long. Fritz especially was concerned with the radio station appearing practically deserted during the morning hours. There had been no sign of the youths, of Major Miller or of Colonel Hogan and his men. Fritz wondered if something had happened and if the broadcast was to be called off. Surely the principles of broadcast would have been there by now?

"It is too quiet," Fritz's partner, Emery, noted. The two of them were seated at a table in a Bierstube that was across the street from the radio station and where they could watch the front entrance. They too were dressed in Gestapo uniforms.

"Ja," Fritz said, never turning his eyes from the window. "I'm not sure I care for it."

"Perhaps we are just too early," Emery said. "The broadcast is not until eight o'clock, they may not bring everyone in until this afternoon."

"Perhaps. And that is logical." Fritz sighed. "But it makes for a long wait."

Emery nodded.

It wasn't until almost three-thirty that activity started to pick up around the radio station. Fritz and Emery, along with all of the underground agents who had been waiting, watched as cars pulled up with Gestapo and Propaganda Ministry people. Hochstetter was there, giving orders, sending his guards to their positions. The Propaganda Ministry people went inside the radio station.

About ten minutes later, a Gestapo truck pulled up to the radio station and the young musicians climbed out of the back. Fritz watched them file through the front door of the radio station. He then looked at Emery.

"Now it begins..."


	24. Stalling

**Düsseldorf Hotel  
****Düsseldorf****Germany  
****November 1944  
****Day 7**

Once the young musicians were inside the radio station and everything was secure, Hochstetter went with two of his guards in his Gestapo staff car to the Düsseldorf Hotel to pick up the star attraction of the broadcast.

Major Miller watched from his hotel window as the car drove down the street and disappeared around the corner to the front of the hotel. He then looked up to the horizon, looking north west, seeing the dark pines of the German forest against the cloudy sky. He wondered where he would be tomorrow...

He turned away from the window and stood in the middle of the hotel room, holding his crush cap in hand, waiting for Hochstetter's impending arrival.

**Stalag 13**

A little after four o'clock, Schultz came to the barracks and announced that it was time to leave. Hogan checked the time on his watch and then looked at Schultz.

"You know, making prisoners wait this long should be a violation of the Geneva Convention," he said as he started to walk out of the barracks.

"What does the Propaganda Ministry care about the Geneva Convention?" LeBeau complained following after the Colonel. Kinch, Newkirk and Carter filed out of the barracks as well.

"Only when it serves propaganda, Louie," Newkirk answered.

**Düsseldorf Radio Station**

Hochstetter and his staff car returned to the radio station no more than five minutes after they had left. Fritz and Emery were still watching from the Bierstube. Major Miller emerged from the car and paused on the sidewalk for only a moment, before being persuaded into the building by Hochstetter's two guards. At the same time, two of Fritz's sentries were making their move at the back of the radio station, knowing all the attention would be focused at the front of the building and removing the one guard at the back entrance would take little effort.

The first sentry, dressed as a Gestapo guard, walked up to the real one posted at the door. He talked to him, and in effect distracted him as the second sentry, wearing just civilian clothes came up behind the guard and knocked him down with a club. The first sentry grabbed the guard before he fell to the ground and with assistance from the second, they carried him down the alley way to the street where one of Fritz's disguised bakery truck was waiting. The unconscious guard was deposited in the back and the first sentry hurried back to the back door of the radio station to take his position.

One down....

_HHH_

Major Miller hardly had a chance to acknowledge the band members who were already in the studio when he had Reigels coming up to him. The Ministry Captain led Miller away from the bandstand and introduced him to two other higher ranking Ministry officials. The two officers didn't offer a hello or even a nod in acknowledgement. They just regarded Miller dourly, looking him up and down and seeming to be offended by either his appearance or just offended in general because he was an American.

Miller looked down at his uniform. During his seven days of captivity he'd managed to keep it clean and straight. He had shaved, his hair was combed. All in all he was neat as pin, despite his status as a prisoner. He looked back up at the two Ministry officials and gave each of them the once over, his brown eyes critical as he examined each officer's uniform. Truthfully, he could find little fault, but as long as they were going to look down their noses at him, he would let them know he wasn't going to stand for it.

He pointed to one of the officer's eagle and swastika emblems. "Your swastika's crooked."

The officer, startled by the American speaking, looked down at the emblem on his uniform. The badge wasn't really crooked and he looked back at Miller with a glare.

"Tsk," was all Miller said.

"Major Miller," Reigels spoke up, not wanting this scene to go further. "We would like for you to read from the script I gave you last night. Do you have it with you?"

"Sure..." Miller retrieved the script from inside his uniform jacket. He unfolded it and Reigels saw that it was ripped in two.

"Herr Major?"

"It ripped."

"I can see that. How?"

"Um..." With the other two Ministry officials eyeing him suspiciously, Miller figured maybe he better play this one dumb. He had no command of the German language and claiming that he figured out some of what the script said was an invitation for trouble, especially if he was asked which parts and what words. And truthfully, he wouldn't have been able to tell what was what. So he kept it simple. "Well, it fell on the floor and when I went to pick it up I stepped on it and pulled it up at the same time." Miller gave a shrug. "Sorry."

Reigels exhaled slowly. "Can you still read from it?"

Miller looked at the two pieces of paper and held them together. "I think I can manage."

"Very well. We're going to record you reading this message."

Miller hesitated. "Record it? I thought this was something for the broadcast?"

"It is, but we would like a separate recording of it." Reigels gestured with his arm toward the microphone that was set up in the middle of the studio. Miller glanced back at the microphone and Reigels gave a nod before walking with the two Ministry officers to the control room.

Major Miller turned toward the microphone, his back facing the control room for a moment. _A recording?__ Damn..._ He looked at his watch. It was quarter after four. He could stall, sure, but could he stall long enough? He knew he had to try. He turned to face the microphone, catching a glimpse of the kids watching him. Their looks were concerned.

Once Reigels and the two other Ministry officers had settled themselves in the control room with Anna and a recording engineer, Miller went about doing his best to stall.

He cleared his throat and waited for the cue from the recording engineer. Then in his usual unanimated, straightforward baritone voice, he spoke, "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this land a new nation, conceived in liberty--"

"Herr Major," Reigels said sternly through the intercom. "Please read the script."

"Don't you want to do a test run first?"

"We don't have time for a test run."

"Well, I at least need a minute to warm up."

"You don't have a minute."

"Okay, okay..." Miller looked at the script again and then made like he was having trouble reading it, bringing it closer then holding it further away. "You wouldn't happen to have a better copy would you?" He looked up at Reigels, who took in an agitated breath.

Miller held his other hand up. "Never mind, I said I'd make do with this one. Okay..." he cleared his throat again. He looked about ready to start to read it when he looked up at the people in the control room. "Would any of you happen to have a cigarette?"

Anna buried her face in her hands. The recording engineer looked at Reigels, annoyed. Miller hid his smile by looking down as he patted the pockets of his uniform jacket. "Oh, never mind, I have one..." He withdrew a cigarette from his pocket and held it up. He then took his time lighting it and taking in that first drag. The smoke he blew out hung in the air of the studio, and he looked through it at the people in the control room.

"Are you ready now, Major Miller?" Reigels asked.

"Yes, yes...sorry. I'm a little nervous, I'm sure you understand. My German's terrible. Truthfully I think you should just have me keep my mouth shut."

Anna looked at Reigels. "That may not be a bad idea..."

"Major Miller," Reigels said offering a phony smile and trying to maintain some sense of control of the situation. "Please, just read from the script. I'm sure you'll be fine once you start. Remember we have heard you on the Allied broadcasts and you've done fine."

Miller shrugged. "If you say so..."

**The Bierstube**

From the Bierstube, Fritz and Emery could see the bakery truck get into position for swapping out the guard on the side of the radio station building. Fritz nodded to himself. His men were taking advantage of the lull in activity. Good. If things remained quiet, he and Emery could probably switch the guards at the front door soon.

It took approximately a minute and the second guard had been switched. The bakery truck then backed up and backed into the narrow alley behind the radio station. Now it was up to Fritz and Emery to make their move when they were ready.

But they would have to stand pat for a moment. Major Hochstetter had come out of the building and was standing on the sidewalk, looking to be waiting for something, or someone.

**Road to Düsseldorf**

The truck from Stalag 13 rumbled over the dirt road on its way to Düsseldorf. Accompanying Hogan, his men and Schultz was Kommandant Klink, obviously looking for a brown nose opportunity with the Propaganda Ministry. After all it was prisoners from his Stalag that were volunteering to help in an effort of the Third Reich. At least, that's what Hogan let Klink believe. That they were _willfully_ volunteering to help the Reich.

The other reason Klink was going with them to Düsseldorf was to make sure Hogan and his men behaved. He would not tolerate being embarrassed by Hogan and have to hear about it later from General Burkhalter. The Kommandant hoped his presence would make Hogan think twice.

Of course it wouldn't. Hogan had no intention of doing anything different, whether Klink was there or not. Truthfully, the more audience members there was, the bigger the show Hogan would try to pull off. The only thing that might change was whether or not there would be an opportunity for Carter to slip the magnesium explosive device into the control room. The sergeant had it with him, Hogan knew, but they also all knew that the more eyes that would be watching them, less chance they had of using it for what they wanted. Hogan took some relief in knowing that the transmitter, at least, would be destroyed.

The men were all quiet as they rode. There was nothing left to discuss anyway, each man knew what had to be done.

And they would do it.

**The Bierstube**

Fritz and Emery watched as a staff car pulled up to the radio station and a portly Luftwaffe General emerged. Hochstetter greeted him and then led him into the radio station. The staff car pulled up and around the corner to park with Hochstetter's and the Ministry staff cars.

"Burkhalter," Emery said. "This is turning out to be a big crowd."

"Mmm," Fritz agreed. He watched the scene in front of the radio station. Burkhalter's driver stepped out of the car and started across the street, heading for the Bierstube. "His driver is heading this way. Act normal."

Emery nodded and picked up his paper, turning the page. Fritz looked down at his half eaten sandwich and beer stein. The driver came into the Bierstube and walked past Fritz and Emery, heading for the bar. Now it was Emery's turn to watch. The driver looked to be no more than a kid and appeared to pose no possible threat. A stein of beer and pretty girl, and he would be oblivious to anything going on at the radio station.

Emery looked at Fritz and gave a slight shake of his head. _He will not be a problem._

Fritz nodded. He glanced at his watch. It was a little past four-thirty. He looked back out the window to the radio station and wondered where Colonel Hogan and his men were.


	25. Treason

**Düsseldorf Radio Station**

Major Miller was wondering the same thing as he went through his fifth...or sixth false start with reading the script. He essentially butchered the first few words of the script, over pronouncing the sounds and saying the vowel sounds the opposite of what they should be. For example, he purposely screwed up _Guten__ Abend _so badly that it came out "goo-ten ay-bend" instead of "goo-ten aa-bent" with the 'a' sounding like that in 'car'.

Longer words that involved several syllables, Miller butchered even worse, dragging out the pronunciation and even repeating some of them in the middle of word. When he made it through a couple of such words he would immediately ask in English, "Have I said that right?"

The agitation in the control room was marked on everyone's face. The two higher ranking Ministry officials were regarding Reigels and Anna with skepticism. General Burkhalter who, along with Hochstetter, had come in to the control room during one of Miller's previous false starts, didn't look too happy with what he was hearing either. Hochstetter....well, he never looked happy to begin with.

Reigels, having had enough, stood up and came out of the control room, approaching Miller.

"Major Miller, this is most unusual. We have heard you speak German on the Allied broadcasts with out nearly this much difficulty. Therefore, I can only conclude that you are _purposely_ _stalling_, and you're continued resistance will not be tolerated."

"How do you expect me to read this when you won't even tell me what the hell it is that I'm saying?"

"You don't need to know what it is that you are saying. Only that you must _say it._" Reigels paused and looked to Miller's hands that were holding the torn script. He took hold of the Major's right hand gently, turning it so the palm faced up. "Tell me Major....how hard is it to play the trombone when one hand is broken?"

Miller yanked his hand away. He clenched it into a fist and glared at Reigels. "All right. I'll read your rotten script."

Reigels chuckled. "Of course you will." He turned and walked back to the control room.

When given the cue, Miller began to read.

_"Good evening. This is Major __Alton__ Glenn Miller of the Supreme Headquarters of the Allied Expeditionary Force, American Band of the Allied Expeditionary __Force, __United States__ Army. I am here tonight to explain to my countrymen and to the world my reasons for leaving __England__, and thus Allied command, and coming here to __Germany__. Please keep in mind that I am under no force or coercion to say what I am about to say and that I speak freely and without hesitation...."_

**  
The Bierstube**

The truck from Stalag 13 pulled up to the front of the radio station. From across the street, Fritz and Emery watched from the Bierstube as the portly Luftwaffe camp guard, stepped out of the truck and walked to the back, holding his rifle in a somewhat lazy fashion. He dropped the tail gate and let Colonel Hogan and his men out of the truck. They then disappeared around the other side of the truck, which was blocking the view of the front door.

"I hope they're not going to leave that truck there," Emery noted.

Fritz was quiet, still watching. "Once the prisoners are inside, the camp guard may come back out to move it."

**  
Düsseldorf Radio Station**

With the recording finished, Reigels, Anna and the two other Ministry officers looked pleased. Miller felt sick. He folded the script and shoved it into the pocket of his uniform, turning away from the microphone and toward the band. They were all looking at him, horrified. He approached and Hans and Ahren stood up and came up to him. They spoke quietly.

"Herr Miller," Hans said gravely, "do you know what they just had you _say?_"

Miller nodded. "Most of it." He sighed heavily. "In a nutshell, I just committed treason."

"They will use that record during the broadcast."

"Hans, they're going to use that record for a lot of things."

"I would have let them break my hand," Ahren said defiantly. "I would not have let them force me to say what they made you say."

"It's easy to say that now, but you might change your mind when your faced with the moment," Miller said.

"You would let them break your hands?" Hans said, turning to his friend. "Your hands. You would not be able to play your instrument. Provided they would let you live after you refused long enough, would it have been worth it to not be able to play your instrument? Perhaps to not be able to walk?"

Ahren was silent as he looked at Hans. Slowly he turned his gaze to Major Miller.

"There's some fates worse than death, Ahren," the Major said.

"Ja.." Ahren said softly. "So there is." He paused a moment, dropping his gaze from the Major. He then looked back up, his eyes suddenly renewed with defiance. "That is why you should have escaped before _now_. Now they will force us to play for the broadcast. Swing music for Nazi's! You will let them make us play!"

"No," Miller said evenly. "We're not playing swing music for the broadcast."

Hans and Ahren both looked dumbfounded. "We will suffer a worse fate than broken hands if we do not play!"

"No, we won't." Miller looked at the two boys directly in their eyes. "Look, you're right, I should have escaped before now but I didn't. I made one vow though, that if things got this far, I would not have you boys play any actual swing music for the broadcast." Miller paused. He knew both boys were thinking that he was making no sense. He had given in to reading the script, now he was talking about blatant defiance by not playing any actual swing music? He had his reasons, which made perfect sense, but he couldn't risk telling the boys anything, not even at this stage of the game. However, he decided to toss a little something out. "You have to trust me. Nothing will happen to any of us."

Hans and Ahren were quiet for a moment and then Ahren pulled Hans aside and away from Major Miller.

_"How does he know nothing will happen to us?" _Ahren asked. _"They were willing to break his arm for that script. If we don't play music, they'll think of something worse for us."_

_"None of us want to play swing music for this broadcast, and you and I both told him that if he should escape, we, as in all of us, would suffer whatever consequences were dealt, right?"_

_"Yes, but he has not escaped! He is still here. Now he has committed treason against his country--"_

_"But not treason against Swing.__ Remember, there are fates worse than death."_

_"You are speaking in riddles, Hans. What could be worse than death?"_

_"Being tortured, instead of just killed. Don't you understand? It is one thing to be alive, in the sense of being aware of what's around you. It is something else to be alive and to be part of what is around you." _Hans pointed to Ahrens hands. _"If you're hands were broken, you would not be able to play your instrument. Wouldn't that kill more inside of you than just ceasing to exist?"_

Ahren nodded impatiently. "Ja, ja _but the broadcast!__ They were able to force him for that script, they will force him to make sure we play what we're supposed to play. He just said himself, it's easy to speak defiance but when you're faced with the situation it could change. I don't want to play real swing music for the bastard Nazi's...but we don't know what they'll threaten."_

_"It doesn't matter. Herr Miller says nothing will happen to any of us."_

_"Wishful thinking, perhaps."___

Hans paused and glanced over at Miller. The Major was watching the other idle activity in the studio. _"I don't think so," _Hans said, looking back at Ahren. _"The prisoners, the other American officer talks to Miller one on one frequently. I am suspicious enough to think..." _Hans let the rest of it hang.__

It took a moment before Ahren's look turned startled. He looked around the studio cautiously before turning back to Hans. _"Escape?" _he whispered. _"During the broadcast?"_

_"Possibly.__ If there is such a chance, then I am willing to put my faith and trust in him." _Hans studied his friend. _"Aren't you?"_

Now things were making sense. Ahren nodded, but was still troubled by something. _"Ja, ja...but the disc.__ He will still be considered to have committed treason."_

Hans paused, looking around the studio. The recording engineer hadn't returned yet. _"Perhaps, something can be done about that." _Hans walked back to Major Miller and Ahren followed.

"Herr Miller," Hans said. "We will pass the word to the others. There will be no swing music for this broadcast."

Major Miller had heard the two boys as they were talking to each other but didn't know enough of what they had been debating. That much he knew at least, that they were debating. Then the tone of the conversation had relaxed and Ahren's posture had changed. Whatever it was Hans had said, it must of convinced Ahren. Now, Miller looked at the two boys and read the expression of trust on each of their faces. He nodded to them and they turned to pass the word to the rest of the band.

The studio doors opened a few moments later and in walked Colonel Hogan with his men, escorted by Sergeant Schultz and Kommandant Klink. Seeing the camp Kommandant surprised Major Miller. This was really turning out to be a full house!

Hogan and his men walked over to Major Miller with no protest coming from any of the Germans in the room. Most of them, particularly Burkhalter and Hochstetter were wondering, out loud, what Klink was doing there. The Kommandant happily explained what his contribution was to the broadcast: Making sure Hogan and his men behaved.

Ignoring the Klink's strutting and the collective groans from Burkhalter and Hochstetter, Hogan stepped up to Miller and cut to the chase. "Everything's set to go," he said quietly. "Things will start rolling as soon as you have us hit those wrong notes. We've also got it set that the transmitter will horribly malfunction around the same time."

Miller nodded. "There's just one problem," he said. "That script that LeBeau tore up? They still had me read it, and they made a recording of it."

The heroes all did a double take. "Oh no..." Hogan said.

"Bloody hell," Newkirk cursed quietly.

"Colonel, I stalled and hemmed and hawed and mispronounced everything as long as I could. I was hoping I could hold out until you fellas got here but..."

"How'd they force your hand?"

Miller held his right hand up and looked at Hogan. "They threatened to break it."

"Terrific." Hogan paused in thought. "Where's the disc now?"

"Being processed. Should be ready by the time we go on the air."

"Metal or acetate?"

"Acetate."

"Destroying it will be easy," Newkirk said. "We just have to figure how to get our hands on it."

"Maybe I can use the magnesium?" Carter suggested, pointing non-chalantly to his thick bomber jacket.

"Maybe," Hogan said. "Truthfully, all we need to do is get a hold of it and drop it on the floor. Crack it, break it."

"Stomp on it," LeBeau added.

"That might be kind of obvious," Hogan said.

"But just as effective." LeBeau smiled.

"True. Okay, let's all keep an eye out for any opportunity to get that disc." Hogan looked at Miller. "Including you."

The Major nodded.

**  
The Bierstube**

"They should have moved that truck by now," Emery observed.

Fritz looked at his watch. It was close to quarter to five. "We still have time," he said. "If they don't move it we will still continue as we have planned."

Emery nodded.

**  
Düsseldorf Radio Station**

Any opportunity for Carter to get into the control room wasn't presenting itself immediately. In fact it looked like the room was going to be perpetually occupied by somebody at all times. The two higher ranking Ministry officials basically camped out in the room, watching the activities in the studio through the glass. Major Miller had to make do with idle conversation from Kommandant Klink and General Burkhalter, both individually and then together. Watching the German Luftwaffe General berate the camp Kommandant was entertaining at least. More entertaining was watching the varied facial expressions of Schultz as the Kommandant spoke. Mercifully, the General finally pulled Klink away, speculating that the American must have had to prepare for a rehearsal before the broadcast.

Hogan and his men were seated with the kids on the bandstand, trying to appear casual. Major Hochstetter observed the activities in the studio from where he stood near the door. Anna and Reigels were in and out of the studio, taking turns to take care of last minute details, final scripts and checking on the production of the incriminating disc that had been recorded. They also were waiting for the arrival of a photographer. Anna was determined this time to get photographs.

At five minutes to six, a photographer arrived. It was the same man who had tried to snap pictures before and he wasn't looking all that confident that he would be successful this time. Newkirk, seeing his special part of the mission had arrived, nudged Carter for assistance and the two stood up one at a time, appearing as though they had become restless with waiting.

"We're not trying this again?" Miller said to Anna.

Anna only smiled. The photographer raised his camera and Miller immediately grabbed his own crush cap, placing it over the lens of the camera. The flash bulb popped.

The photographer lowered his camera and glared at the Major.

Miller replaced his cap back on his head and looked at Anna. "You just don't give up do you?"

Anna shook her head, still smiling, and turned, walking away. Miller looked at the photographer. The man had replaced the flash bulb and looked at the American, seeing the testy look on the bandleader's face. _Just try it..._ he seemed to be saying. The photographer decided he would not try to take another picture of the Major and instead would try to catch him off guard later. The man stepped around the Major and walked away.

Carter and Newkirk came up from behind Miller and stood at either side of him for a moment. "Don't worry, sir," Newkirk said, "we'll give them some nice pictures..." Newkirk then stepped forward and Carter followed. Miller watched them.

The photographer looked to be contemplating taking a shot of the band. Hogan, Kinch and LeBeau all turned their faces the other way but would sneak a look back to see what Newkirk or Carter was going to do. Even the kids didn't look to want to have their picture taken either and several of them either turned away or held their instruments up to obstruct their faces. Newkirk was looking around the studio, appearing to not be paying attention to where he was going as he walked toward the band stand. He walked straight into the side of the photographer, forcing the photographer to push the shutter too soon and the camera to move just as the picture was taken.

"Oh I'm terribly sorry about that mate!" Newkirk said putting a steadying hand on the photographer's arm. "Messed up your photograph, didn't I? I'm very sorry..."

The photographer just glared at Newkirk and pushed the Englander's left hand away. But not before Newkirk's right hand managed to swipe a flash bulb from the photographer's pocket.

"Sorry," Newkirk said, keeping his left hand held up, while the one that held the flash bulb was brought down to his side and back a little. Newkirk then turned to his right and held the flash bulb out of sight of the photographer as he walked back to where Hogan sat with Kinch and LeBeau. LeBeau put his hand behind him and as Newkirk went around the Frenchman, dropped the flash bulb into LeBeau's hand. LeBeau then placed the bulb in the pocket of his brown overcoat.

Newkirk sat down beside Hogan. "He's got at least five more," Newkirk reported quietly.

Hogan nodded.

Next was Carter's turn. He stood patiently while the photographer put another flash bulb in and then watched as he lined the camera up again to try another shot. Carter waited a heartbeat and then suddenly jumped in front of the camera. "Hey, that's a neat looking camera ya got there!"

_Click_!

If anything, the photographer got an up close and blurred shot of a US Army Air Corp bomber jacket. The camera was lowered and the German looked at Carter.

"Oh..." Carter said, pretending to realize what he had done. "Sorry..." He smiled awkwardly and turned, walking back to the bandstand.

While the photographer was preparing yet another flash bulb, the recording engineer returned to the studio with the processed disc in hand. He paused to speak to Anna and Reigels a moment and then continued to the control room.

Miller looked at Anna and Reigels. "Gee," he said with sarcasm, "aren't you going to try take a photograph of me holding your precious disc?" He suddenly realized what he had suggested. He maintained his sarcastic look but was hoping they would jump at the idea.

So did Colonel Hogan.

And they did, hook, line and sinker. Anna smiled and looked to the control room. "Wendell, bring the disc out here please."

The engineer came back out of the control room with the disc in hand. Anna held her hand out for the disc. Wendell hesitated, knowing this was a very important recording and that he was responsible for it. He didn't want anyone else handling it but him. "What are you going to do with it?" he asked.

"We are going to take a photograph of Major Miller with the disc."

Wendell thought about that for a moment and then apparently decided that was okay and he handed the disc to Anna. Anna then handed it to Major Miller and turned toward the bandstand. "Colonel Hogan. Would you and your men come here please?"

Hogan and the heroes followed. Hogan put on a charming smile. "Let me guess. You want to take a picture of all of us, right? C'mon fellas, gather around..." The men gathered around the Major and Hogan turned slightly to Miller's anxious look. "I'll cue you when to drop it, don't hang on to it too tight."

Miller gave a half nod and held the disc gingerly in his hands. Anna and Reigels stepped back as the photographer prepared to take the picture.

"What's the German word for cheese?" Carter asked.

"Kase," Kinch replied.

"Say "Kase" everybody!" Hogan called out. He then suddenly leaned an arm on Miller's left shoulder, which was Miller's cue. The Major didn't even have to fake it. The sudden unannounced drop of his shoulder forced the record from his hands and down it went, hitting the floor and breaking apart into at least three pieces.

Everybody looked down at the smashed record just as the picture was snapped. In the control room, Wendell the engineer, paled. Miller looked at Hogan. "Now look what you made me do," he said in a mock scolding tone.

"Me?" Hogan argued. "You were holding the record!"

"You hit my arm!"

"I didn't hit your arm, I was leaning on your shoulder."

"Same difference." Miller looked at Anna and Reigels. "I'm terribly sorry..."

"No, no," Hogan said. "He's right, I bumped him. It was my fault. I'm sorry."

"Silence," Reigels said. He stepped over and bent down to pick up the broken pieces of the disc. He straightened, looking at the pieces and then at Major Miller.

"Was that the only copy?" Miller asked.

"Yes. This was the _only_ copy."

"Well, you have to admit," Miller said, "it wasn't my best effort."

Reigels only looked at the American bandleader, grinding his teeth as he did so.

"Maybe you can have him record another one?" Hogan suggested.

"There is no time," Reigels replied coolly. "We have a little over an hour and half until the broadcast. I think the time would be best used for rehearsal..." He waved the Allied servicemen away and they shuffled quietly back to the band stand.

"That was beautiful, gov'nor," Newkirk said, grinning. The rest of the heroes were smiling in relief. Hogan looked at Miller with a nod. "Nice job."

"I'm just glad it broke when we dropped it....er rather, when I dropped it."

The heroes chuckled and Hogan nodded. "That and I'm glad there's only one copy!"

"_Oui._"

The kids in the bandstand were all exchanging glances of relief too.


	26. Escape

**The Bierstube**

Fritz was becoming a little edgy. The time on his watch was clicking toward six-thirty and he looked at the truck from Stalag 13, still parked directly in front of the entrance to the radio station. It still had not moved. Fritz stared at it hard, as if trying to force it to move with his eyes. _Just roll down the street a little, just so I can see the doorway..._

The truck remained. Nobody was moving it.

Fritz sighed, glanced at his watch again and looked at Emery.

"Now?" Emery asked.

Fritz looked back at the truck. "Now."

"We don't know what's going on, on the other side of the truck."

"We'll find out when we get there." Fritz moved to stand up from the booth. He removed the appropriate amount of marks, plus tip and left it on the table. "Come..."

Emery stood up and followed Fritz out of the Bierstube. Fritz paused beneath a street lamp to light a cigarette and stood for a moment on the sidewalk, looking around in both directions of the street. The evening was pulling a dark shadow over the street. The sun was gone behind the buildings in the western horizon. Only a little tint of blue remained in the sky, sprinkled with a few of the night's first stars. At the left end of the radio station building, one of his men signaled to him. Everything was clear. At the right end of the radio station, another signal. Everything was clear.

Fritz took a long drag on the cigarette and blew a string of smoke out to the right. This was his reply signal. He and Emery would move in now.

As they started to cross the street, another signal went between the left and right flanks of the radio station. Next, Hochstetter's staff car, which along with the other staff cars had been left unattended on the side street, pulled away from the curb and went down around the block, coming back up on the right side of the radio station building. It slowed and stopped at the corner, the sentry driving it watching Fritz and Emery. With the truck from the Stalag blocking the place where the bakery truck was supposed to go, the sentry figured to use Hochstetter's car to carry the two replaced guards around to the backside of the building to join with the others.

The Stalag truck at least was providing the same amount of cover from the traffic on the street as the bakery truck would have. Fritz was appreciative of that at least.

"Guten Abend," he said as he and Emery approached. "Lovely evening."

Fritz was sure he and Emery looked imposing enough in their Gestapo uniforms, as the two guards who didn't look any older than twenty, came to immediate attention. _Good prompt soldiers_, Fritz thought. _Coming to direct attention._ The two guards responded and raised their arms in salute. "Guten Abend, Oberstleutnant. Heil Hitler."

Fritz and Emery never saluted. Instead they grabbed at the two arms that were out straight and sucker punched the two young guards. The two guards were hit again and were relieved of their rifles. Hochstetter's staff car now came around the corner and pulled up in front of the truck from Stalag 13.

With rifles in hand, Fritz and Emery both savagely knocked the two guards unconscious with the butt ends of the rifles. They then slung the rifles over their backs and dragged the unconscious guards across the sidewalk to the waiting staff car. The sentry was waiting with the back door open and he helped to load the two guards into the car, pulling and dragging them in. Once completed, the sentry shut the back door of the car and Fritz and Emery walked back to the front entrance of the radio station. Hochstetter's staff car drove away from the curb, unhurried, and turned the corner. The two guards would be moved from the car to the bakery truck in the alley.

Fritz and Emery came to stand at the entrance way, straightening their uniforms and trying to breathe normally. The each looked around. It appeared they had caused little attention from anyone on the street. They glanced at each other and nodded. A job well done. So far...

**Düsseldorf Radio Station**

Miller led the band through a halfhearted rehearsal. To anyone else the band sounded pretty good. But Miller could hear beyond the music. The kids were nervous and admittedly, he was too. Hogan said everything was going to start moving at 8 o'clock, but just what exactly was going to happen? And what was going to happen when the transmitter malfunctioned? And more than that, what the hell was going to happen once they were all out of the radio station?

Playing music passed the time, but didn't answer any of the questions. And Miller couldn't stop to ask the Colonel for much detail, not with all the extra ears in the room that might hear. Much the same way the young musicians had collectively put their trust in Miller, the Major would have to put his trust in Colonel Hogan...and the higher authority of the Lord.

At seven-thirty, Miller suspended the rehearsal. Next would be the longest thirty minutes he had ever had to wait through. Carter and Newkirk successfully spoiled the photographer's last five chances at getting a photograph. Once he ran out of flashbulbs, the photographer left to get more, figuring to try again during the actual broadcast.

The kids in the band talked quietly amongst themselves, Hogan and his men were quiet as they watched Burkhalter, who was talking now with the higher ranking Ministry officials, and they watched Hochstetter, who was watching them. Reigels and Anna were in the control room, in discussion with the engineer.

Miller sat by himself at the base of the bandstand, smoking a cigarette and observing what was going on. He didn't turn to look when Ahren came and sat down beside him.

"You should have tried to escape last night," Ahren said softly.

Miller snorted softly, tapping his ashes into the ash tray. "I didn't have the opportunity," he replied.

Ahren was quiet for a moment. Finally, he couldn't hold back any more. He had to ask. "Is somebody going to try to rescue you?" he whispered.

Miller looked at the young boy, surprised by the question. He was sure the boy was wondering how it was that nothing would happen to them when they didn't play any music. But Miller knew he couldn't risk admitting anything. Not now. Not until they were all safe. He gave a slight shrug. "I don't know."

Ahren was quiet again, but he never took his eyes off the bandleader. The young German was trying to figure out if there really was going to be an escape. Miller by the same token, avoided Ahren's gaze and instead looked at the cigarette he held between his fingers.

"They won't like what you're planning to do for the broadcast..." Ahren said. "If we don't play music, we will all be punished..." the boy's voice went soft. "You will not be able to escape then. Nobody will be able to save you...or any of us."

Miller looked at the cigarette a moment longer and then raised his eyes to Ahren. The young German saw something in them that made him pause. Miller knew something and for a brief moment he revealed the playing card. Defeat? No....no, he was not accepting defeat. They would not be punished. Somehow they would be saved.

Miller dropped his gaze, revealing no more. However, he spoke softly. "Somebody," he said, "will save us..." He looked back at Ahren, this time looking for the young German's understanding and, most importantly, his trust.

He would have it. But he also saw the questions that came through Ahren's eyes. _How? When? Who?..._

"Herr Miller...?" Ahren started.

Miller shook his head. He'd already said too much.

"Do the other's know this?" Ahren asked quietly.

"No...and I don't even know for sure. But there is a chance." Miller looked at Ahren. "That's all I know, that there's a chance..."

Ahren looked at the American Major. The curiosity was just too much. "The prisoners?"

"No. Ahren, don't ask any questions, I've already told you more than I should have." The Major's tone wasn't scolding, but it was uneasy. And the uneasiness startled Ahren.

_There was a chance...._ Ahren wondered why Miller didn't tell all of them about this. But as soon as Ahren pondered the question he came up with his own answer. It was too risky, especially where the Gestapo and the Propaganda Ministry had questioned all of them after each rehearsal. Ahren was fairly sure that none of the boys would have implicated the Major, but there was enough of a seed of doubt to prevent the Major from revealing too much. Especially with Hans, Josef and Adler in the HJ. Part of being in the HJ was reporting things and any of the boys could have been easily persuaded or manipulated to tell the Gestapo everything...

But they wouldn't....would they? He knew Hans wouldn't, but it had been months since Ahren had last seen Josef and Adler. He was beginning to the understand the Major's dilemma. He also understood the urgency for secrecy and would honor that.

"I will say nothing to anyone, Herr Miller..." Ahren said. "That is a promise."

Miller looked at Ahren. He nodded. He could only hope that Ahren kept that promise, as there were ten lives depending on it.

…

At a few minutes to eight, the loudspeaker system outside the radio station announced that a special broadcast would be coming up. Fritz looked at his watch. Things looked to be moving on schedule. He nodded to Emery.

"Guten Abend," Anna said into the microphone in the middle of the studio. "Tonight, we have a special broadcast for the youth of Germany along with a very special guest, Major Glenn Miller of the Supreme Headquarters of the Allied Command, United States Army. But first, some music. Major Miller..."

Miller raised his hands up, ready to cue the band. The players readied their instruments and Miller waited for the cue from Reigels. When it came, and Miller directed the band to play, the most horrendous sound filled the small studio.

Like fingernails on a chalk board, the sudden explosion of instruments playing off key notes, screeching and out of sync, was so traumatic sounding that even the Major cringed inwardly. Hogan was crashing out an erratic drum beat while LeBeau banged the piano keys like an artist possessed and having no recognizable melody. Kinch's base line was all over the map. Meanwhile, the brass instruments were like a pack of shrieking wolves, while the reeds just moaned and wailed like wounded animals. The sound was so hideous it was amusing. Newkirk and Carter, who were supposed to be adding some terrible singing to the mix, couldn't get themselves to do much. They were too busy trying not to laugh.

The amused bandleader turned to see what kind of effect the noise was having on the assembled guests. He found it was hitting the mark. People covered their ears while the Ministry officials were animated in the control room, telling the engineer to cut the live feed for a recording. He did but that didn't spare the people in the studio, who still had to endure the Dying Wolves Overture.

Reigels scrambled out of the control room and made a beeline for the band. "Stop!"

Miller saw him coming and having heard enough himself he signaled the band to stop. He found himself really having to work to keep a straight face as he turned to Reigels. "Something wrong?"

Reigels was clearly flustered. "Major Miller, that is _not_ what we've heard this band playing in rehearsal for the past three days!"

"You're right. It's not." Miller paused as Anna came up beside the Ministry captain. "Seeing as you were so kind to say that American swing music was noise I'd thought I'd give ya some." He paused, holding back a smile. "You didn't like it?"

"I have heard drunken fools play better than that!"

"Then perhaps you should have got drunken fools for your broadcast, _Kapitän_"

Reigels was quite frosted by this. He drew in a sharp breath. "There will be severe consequences for this insubordination, Herr Major..."

Miller raised an eyebrow, as if to say _oh really?_

Hogan stepped down from the drum kit. "What's the matter, Major? They not like the selection?"

"No."

"That's too bad," Hogan said. He looked at Reigels and Anna. "We practiced especially hard on that lil' number too..."

Miller had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Reigels saw this and glared at the band leader. "This is an outrage!" he said before turning on his boot heel. Anna looked at Miller.

"You will regret you've done this, Herr Major," she said. She turned and followed Reigels.

Miller turned toward the band, finally letting the smile break open. "Oh I'm not going to regret that one bit..." The kids too were grinning and trying to hold back snickers. Before Reigels and Anna got to the studio door, it suddenly burst open and five masked Gestapo guards came marching in.

"Achtung!" the lead one spoke up. All five had guns drawn and one of the guards immediately persuaded Reigels and Anna to the side of the studio.

"What is this?" Reigels asked, surprised.

The kids in the band were all looking too and the grins and snickers ceased. Miller made eye contact with Hans and Ahren and gestured with his hands for the kids to stay calm.

None of the guards spoke immediately. Another guard went to the door that led to the control room, opened it and stood in the open door way, with gun drawn and keeping an eye on the engineer, the other two Ministry officials and Major Hochstetter, who was clearly livid by what he was seeing.

"What is going on here?!" he demanded.

"Silence!" the lead Gestapo man said.

A third guard waved for Hogan and the heroes to be separated from the rest of the band. The prisoners from Stalag 13 stepped away from the bandstand were gathered in a group in a corner of the studio.

Miller kept an eye on the band members, making sure to look at each one individually, gesturing to them to stay calm. He could tell the sight of masked Gestapo men was not a comforting sight for any of these kids, but the kids looked at him and gave slight nods. They would follow the Major.

The lead Gestapo man, which was Fritz, stepped before Major Miller and pointed his rifle in a persuading manner. He had to make this look good. "Herr Major...if you and your band here would come with us please..."

Miller eyed the gun. "And if I refuse?"

"Then everyone in this room will be shot."

"You drive a hard bargain. Where are you taking us?"

"You will know when you get there." Fritz waved the gun. "Let's go..."

"Where are you taking him?" Hogan demanded.

"That is none of your concern," the Gestapo man that was watching over the heroes said.

Miller looked at the band and nodded for them to gather up their instruments. "Herr Miller," Hans said quietly. "What is happening?"

"It's okay, Hans. Just follow me. You boys are going to be all right. I promise..."

Hans nodded and told the others quietly to follow the Major and that they would be okay.

"_Quiet,_" Fritz said. He gestured with the gun. "Schnell."

The band members had gathered their instruments and stood. Fritz pointed to one of the other men, Emery, who waited at the door of the studio. The band members walked to the door quietly. Miller paused a moment and looked at Colonel Hogan and the heroes standing in the corner. He couldn't say anything, not thank you, not goodbye, not anything. All he could do was give a nod, silently expressing his gratitude. He then turned back and walked to the door of the studio.

Fritz waited a few moments, giving time for Miller and the band to be escorted out of the building. He then nodded to the guard that was watching the heroes, who stepped backwards, keeping his sights on the heroes but moving for the door way. The other guards moved away from their positions as well and they were soon making a quick exit out the door with Fritz remaining for a moment.

"The Gestapo thanks you for your cooperation everyone..." He was then gone.

"BAH!!" Hochstetter shouted, running out of the control room. The other two Ministry officials came out as well.

"Major Hochstetter," Reigels said, coming up to the Gestapo Major. "I hope you have an explanation for this!"

"I don't! But I will find out--"

Hochstetter was cut off by the deafening _boom_ of the dynamite going off on the roof.

"What was that?" Klink said.

"Air raid?" Schultz wondered.

The screaming sound of metal could be heard as the transmitter tower went crashing down on the roof and suddenly the power was cut inside the building, putting the studio into darkness and creating a mad dash for everyone to get out. Carter took the opportunity and pulled the magnesium pencil from his bomber jacket. He never set the timer on the pencil, not knowing when he would have the chance to get rid of it. So instead now, he just pulled the wire to trigger the detonator and he tossed the pencil into the empty control room, near the engineer's panel.

In the time Fritz had paused, Miller and the kids had been hustled out of the building and into the truck that the kids had been transported back and forth in. The remaining fake guards came running out of the building and they climbed into the truck, pulling the tarps down on the back, concealing those who were traveling inside. Fritz hollered to the driver to go and the truck pulled away into the street, just as the explosion occurred sending the transmitter tower crashing down across the roof of the building.

Major Miller peered out the back tarp just before the truck turned a corner. The roof of the radio station was lit up like a fireplace, the remains of the tower hanging over the edge and broken pieces, dangling with their own small flames, reached to the sidewalk in vain. Colonel Hogan hadn't been kidding when he said it would horribly malfunction.

"Boy, talk about a barn burner," Carter said once everyone was outside. Schultz corralled everyone near the truck they had rode in on while chaos was starting to creep in elsewhere. Inside the radio station, Carter's magnesium pencil was doing its job, igniting a fire and catching on to whatever it could that would burn on the engineer's control board. As fate would have it, Reigels had left the three broken pieces of Miller's recording on the board itself and once the fire reached it there would be no telling that the recording ever existed.

Outside, Hochstetter was shouting orders to anybody that would listen to him. First was to get a fire brigade to the radio station, second was to find out what happened to his guards. Reigels then turned to Klink and Schultz and told them to take the POW's back to their camp.

"Nein!" Hochstetter said. "They are to stay here and be questioned! When I find out what happened and who is responsible, heads will roll!"

"The only head I see rolling so far, Major, is yours!" Reigels shot back.

"BAH! You are all under arrest! Nobody is leaving until I say so. The entire town of Düsseldorf will be surrounded with a ring of steel!" Hochstetter then looked at Colonel Hogan with an especially vicious expression. "Major Miller will _not_ get out with his _life!_"

…

Black uniformed men blanketed the town of Düsseldorf. Doors were knocked on...and kicked down, buildings were checked, and people were questioned. Warehouses and barns were especially checked and staked out. Roadblocks were put up. But the Underground was one step ahead. The destruction of the radio station had provided just enough of a hold up for Hochstetter that Fritz was able to slip out of the town before the roadblocks went up. And with the dark of night as their cover, the truck made it's way to a farmstead several miles outside of town and set way back from the road. The massive doors on the large barn were wide open and the truck rumbled up the dirt drive and straight into the barn. The lights on the truck were shut off and the doors were immediately closed, plunging the barn into a temporary black depth.

Oil lamps were lit by the few underground agents who had been waiting in the barn. The tarps on the back of the truck were lifted and the Gestapo dressed underground agents moved quickly, spilling out of the truck and then assisting the kids and Major Miller out. The kids were separated from the Major and huddled to one side of the barn by two of the underground agents. All of the underground operatives kept their black face masks on, and the ones that had been waiting in the barn also wore coverings over their faces, as none of them knew if all of the kids would be going along on this trip. If some reason any of the kids balked at going, the underground could not afford recognition.

The exception to this was Major Miller. The lead Gestapo dressed agent walked Miller to the other side of the barn, away from the kids, and with his back facing the direction of the kids, he pulled his mask down a little bit.

"Major Miller, I can now introduce myself to you. My name is Brandeis Fritz. I will see to it that you return to England safely."

Miller nodded. "Thank you."

"We will not be here for long. Once Emery and Claus determine how many of the young men will be going back with you, things are going to move very quickly. I can not guarantee that this will be the most comfortable trip for you, however."

"Don't worry about that. Whatever you have to do, do it. Whatever you want me to do, just tell me."

"I'm glad you say that," Fritz said with a smile. "Because I'm going to need you to trade your uniform there....."

Miller made a face, recalling the last time he had traded for the Gestapo uniform.

"...for civilian clothes." Fritz smiled.

"Oh..." Miller chuckled. "All right then."

Hans nodded and looked at one of the non-Gestapo dressed agents, nodding and motioning with his hand. The other agent came over with a duffel bag in hand. He handed it to Hans who turned it over to Miller. "There's a tool room at the end here." Fritz pointed. "Once you've changed, put your uniform in this bag."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"We'll have to destroy it. We don't want to leave behind any traces of you that the Germans can pick up. Before we leave here, we'll burn it."

"Oh." Miller paused and looked down at the uniform he wore. "Well, I suppose seeing as I've been wearing it for a week, burning it is probably the best thing you can do to it."

Fritz chuckled.

Meanwhile, the kids were finding out what was going on from the other two underground agents. Neither of them removed their face masks and the first one spoke directly to the point.

"Listen," he said. "Major Miller is being taken to England. If any of you wish to go with him, you may. If you do not, we will leave you somewhere near town to be picked up. Keep in mind you will more than likely be picked up by the Gestapo and will be asked questions. I'm sure I don't have to remind any of you how charming the Gestapo can be..."

The boys were silent, some exchanging glances with one another. Some of them looked like they would go, a couple of them seemed hesitant.

"Mein mudder..." Josef said suddenly.

Hans and Adler looked at Josef and then at the Underground agent. "_How much time do we have_?" Hans asked, in German.

"_Five...maybe ten minutes.__ We will be moving very quickly_."

"_Adler and I will talk with the others. Those that don't want to go we will prepare them as best we can for what may happen_."

The Underground agent nodded. He looked at his partner and nodded. The two stepped away from the kids and walked to the other side of the truck.

Hans and Adler turned to Josef.

"I would go," he said, "but my mother, my younger sisters...I can not leave them. Not if the Gestapo might question them too, or punish them for my escaping." He paused. "I wish I could have them come with me..."

"The Underground will not be able to make the time," Adler said.

Hans shook his head. "Maybe not this time...but they will at another time." He glanced at Josef. "I will stay behind with him. My family too I would not want to see be punished for my escape. We can tell the Gestapo we jumped from the truck to escape, especially if we believe it was Gestapo that kidnapped us to begin with. They'll believe that, we're all delinquents to begin with, so naturally we would try to escape from the Gestapo."

Adler gave a small smile. "That's true. Once they tell you it was the Underground however, they will question you."

"We don't know anything. Which is true, we didn't know of any of this until they put us into the truck." Hans paused. "I wonder who's idea it was to take us all along anyway?" His tone was genuine in wonderment.

"Probably the Underground..." Adler said. "To make it look good. Take Herr Miller, take the band too."

Hans nodded. "It is an unexpected, but wonderful opportunity...but I'm afraid Josef and I have one thing that keeps us here."

Adler nodded. He looked at the other band members. "Is there anyone else who wishes to remain behind?"

No one spoke, but six heads all turned from side to side. They would go with Miller. Adler nodded at this and looked at the swastika arm band on his HJ uniform. He grabbed a hold of it and yanked it off, dropping it to the floor of the barn. Then, with a savage boot, stomped it into the dirt. The kids laughed and then each took turns stomping on it, turning the arm band into a dirt stained and nearly mutilated piece of red, white and black cloth. Even Hans and Josef took their turns trampling the arm band. Having had to swear an allegiance to National Socialism and the Fuehrer out of fear and intimidation, the young musicians indulged in the moment where they could freely express their true opinion of the Nazi Party and each stomp of their feet made it perfectly clear.

Wondering what the commotion was all about, the two Underground agents came over to see what was going on. The kids stopped what they were doing and jumped back from the arm band, looking at the Underground agents. The two agents looked at the scuffed and torn swastika on the floor and then looked at the kids. Although their faces were still hidden behind the black masks, their eyes held mirth.

"I take it you boys have all decided to go with the Major?" one of the agents said.

"All but two," Hans said. "Josef and I will not be going. Our families...."

The agent nodded, the mirth in his eyes now sobered.

Major Miller emerged from the tool room, dressed in a dark suit with a black overcoat. His military crush cap was replaced with a dark grey fedora hat. What had been left of his kit that was in the pockets of his uniform were now in the deep pockets of the black overcoat he wore. He held the duffle bag with his Army uniform, in hand. One of the Underground agents walked up to him and gestured for the bag. Miller handed it to him and the agent stepped away.

Fritz then came up to the Major, the black face covering back in place. He paused a moment to give Miller the once over and then reached into his uniform coat and pulled out a photograph. He looked at it, looked at the Major again and sighed. "They'll spot you a mile away."

Miller gestured to the photograph. Fritz handed it to him. The photograph was of Miller, in civilian attire taken at least three or four years previous.

"It is expected they will circulate your civilian and military photos. Getting you out of the uniform is easy...disguising you more than that will take some effort." Fritz accepted the photo back from Miller. "We will work on that."

Another agent came up to Fritz. "_We are just about ready."_

_"Are all of the boys going?"_

_"Nein.__ Two will be staying behind because of their families."_

Fritz paused and nodded soberly. "_They show much honor and courage to do so." _Fritz looked at the agent. "_How much longer?"___

_"Just a few minutes.__ One of the HJ boys is discarding his uniform for civilian clothes."_

_"Very well.__ Place his uniform with the Major's and we will destroy them together."_

_"Ja."_ The agent walked away.

Fritz looked back at the Major. "We are almost ready. Emery tells me that all but two of the boys will be going back with you. The two that are staying are doing so for their families."

"Who?" Miller asked. Fritz merely looked toward the other side of the barn. The boys that were making the trip were gathered together. Separated away from them were two, Hans and Josef. They in turn were watching him. Miller glanced at Fritz. "Excuse me."

"Of course."

Miller headed toward the two boys, removing his hat. The two stood up a little straighter, coming to attention at the approaching adult both out of habit, and out of genuine respect for Major Miller. The two youngsters tried to look brave, and their expressions were pretty good, but Miller could tell there was a natural fear behind the bravado. Their eyes betrayed them.

Hans drew in a deep breath. "Herr Miller..."

"I was just told," he replied. He hesitated a moment, trying to find the words. "You're doing the right thing, to stay behind."

"We would rather go," Hans said truthfully. "But more than that we would want to bring our families, what is left of them, with us."

"I know. I hope that one day you can. Better yet, I hope the day will come soon where you can stay here without fear, instead of wanting to flee."

Hans nodded. "So do we." He turned to Josef and translated what Miller had said.

_"It will come. It will come soon, I am sure."_

"It will come soon," Hans said softly. He hesitated a moment, wanting to say more but he knew they had no time. He put his hand out to the Major. "Good bye, Herr Miller...good luck."

Miller grasped the young boy's hand. "Auf Wiedersehen, Hans. Be careful..."

Hans nodded and stepped aside. Josef then shook Miller's hand. "Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Miller. _The opportunity to play for you and with you was an honor. We will never forget this. Or you."_

Miller nodded. "Auf Wiedersehen, Josef."__

Josef then stepped back and Hans looked at the Major. "Josef speaks what I could not a minute ago. He says the opportunity to play for you and with you was an honor. We will never forget this, or you."

"The same goes for me."

One of Fritz's men approached unobtrusively. He looked at the boys. "_We must be leaving," _he said gently.

Hans and Josef both nodded. They looked at Major Miller one last time, gave a final nod in good bye and followed the underground man toward the exit of the barn.

"Hans! Josef!" one of the young voices spoke up from the rest of the group. The two boys stopped and turned and Adler had stepped forward, dressed now in civilian clothes but holding his Hitler Youth uniform in hand. He paused a moment and then gave the only salute he knew, putting his arm out straight and diagonal. "Heil Freiheit (_Freedom). _Swing Heil..."

Hans and Josef returned the salute, their shoulders squared with pride. "Swing Heil. Heil Freiheit."

"Swing Heil," the other boys intoned, raising their arms in salute as well. "Heil Freiheit." Hans and Josef stood for a moment longer before letting their arms down and turning to follow the underground agent out of the barn.

Adler and the other boys disengaged their salutes once Hans and Josef left, but Adler stared at the shadows of the end of the barn realizing he would probably never see them again. The young boy took a deep breath, said a silent prayer for his friends safety and turned back to the group of boys. Another of the underground agents came up with the duffel bag that already held Major Miller's uniform. He held the bag open to Adler, for the boy to place his HJ uniform in.

The boy looked into the bag just as he was about to deposit his uniform. He stopped and looked at the underground agent. "Herr Miller's?"

The underground man nodded behind his black face covering. "Ja. _We will destroy it, along with your uniform as well_."

Adler suddenly dropped his HJ uniform to the barn floor and took a hold of the duffel bag, reaching in and pulling out the dark brown uniform jacket. The underground man, not knowing what Adler was doing, grabbed the duffel and jacket. "Nein, _you can't have it."_

Adler shook his head. "Nein..." He pointed to the rank pin on the shoulder of the jacket and the "US" badges on the lapels. "_The insignias."_

The underground man turned to Major Miller. "Herr Miller? I think he wants the pins off your jacket..."

Miller stepped up to the group and Adler turned to him, holding the jacket toward the Major and pointing to the badges on the lapels again.

"Why not?" Miller said. He took the jacket from Adler and the underground man and turned the bottom side of the lapels out, removing the "US" and eagle pins. He then turned the shoulders inside out to remove his rank pins. He handed the small brass pins to Adler who then turned to the other boys, asking who wanted one. All of them did.

"They all want one," the underground man said.

"That's what I figured," Miller replied. "And we're one short. You have something I can cut one of these buttons off with?"

The underground agent produced a small knife from his pocket and handed it to the Major. A moment later, one of the brass buttons from the jacket was removed and Miller handed it to Adler. Adler then handed it to Erik and the young trumpet player palmed the button, curling his fingers around it and holding it tight in his hand.

"There." Miller handed the jacket to the underground agent. Adler picked up his uniform from the floor and shoved it into the duffel bag. The brown jacket followed and the underground man gave a nod before hurrying away to dispose of the uniforms. Fritz and Emery then stepped up and told everyone to get back into the truck.

Each of the boys climbed into the truck, with Major Miller climbing in last. The heavy cloth tarp was dropped back down over the back of the truck and the unsettling darkness took over. The two doors of the truck were opened and shut and then the motor turned over. What sliver of light shown through the breaks in the tarp, was extinguished and the massive barn doors were opened once again. The truck jerked backwards and rolled slowly out of the barn and then turned around on the dirt drive, heading for the road.

Major Miller ventured a peek from behind the tarp. The farmhouse they were leaving had no lights on and surrounding landscape was dark, tinted only by the light of the moon. He looked toward the clear night sky, filled with stars and saw one star blinking. _Home..._ it seemed to be saying. _I will lead you home...._

_  
**(End Part One....)**_


End file.
